Encore!
by Danielle Janess
On the window-glass screens, gallery-sized
portraits of pinks and creams. Van Gogh's
Almond Blossom, sent to his brother in Paris.
The whole north side of the house, confection.
This morning, my brother sent me a text to ask
if I've heard of a mineral. Blood of the Mountain.
Preserver of the Body. Stone oil. Rock sweat. Weakness-
Assassin. Alexander of Macedonia fed it to his armies.
Aristotle drank it with camphorous milk. Metallic
black resin from the cloudcrusts of the Himalayas.
My brother wants it to vanquish his brain fog. In the red
rock vortex, a sage boy with vernal pools for eyes
spooned it into my tea. Have you ever licked
the rind of a log? Run your tongue,
sous bois, along the forest's dank spine? Piney,
nostalgic with soft rot. The earth is mad
and beautiful. My brother, awaiting
chemo. And what does it mean –
he'll die? What if a man has a hundred
senses, asks Trofimov, and ninety-five
are left alive? Already the petals
begin their soundless loosenings, tattooing
the sidewalks. The bugs are woozy
on honey. Soon the buds
will bear fruit and the branches will crest
with waxwings. From Amsterdam, I send
a glossy of the almond. I play
Chekov's last farce in Berlin. The lead
cries 'Music!', and manic, she whirls
on the floor. Like show ponies,
the household gallops the apron. Dazzling,
fiery pinks rain from the ceiling.
I'll stand, weeping, at the curtain.
Danielle Janess was born and raised at the confluence of Lake Huron and the St. Clair River, Treaty 29 Territory, in the traditional and contemporary homelands of the Aamjiwnaang First Nation. She is the author of the début poetry collection, The Milk of Amnesia (McGill-Queen's University Press 2021), which she co-adapted to short film, and the winner of Glossy Planet's 2026 Silent Spring Challenge. She holds an MFA in Writing from the University of Victoria and currently lives on unrecognized dxʷdəwʔabš (Duwamish) Land, aka Seattle. Her new poems investigate Lake Huron, the St. Clair River, and the legacy of Canada's Chemical Valley.