Posted in Uncategorized


After some thought and consideration, I’ve decided to migrate the eavestrough diaries to my personal website. Since the site is currently under construction, this one will remain active in the meantime, though no new poems will be uploaded. I will link to the page once it has been completed.


Posted in eavesdrop, Poetry, Uncategorized

things i learned during my undergrad

  1. Papaya salad is always delicious
  2. There are no good BBQ joints on any university campus north of Dallas.
  3. If a body part starts feeling itchy, you should always get it checked out, ALWAYS.
  4. I’ll never fit in with the “artsy kids.”
  5. There is no human way possible to attend a lecture at 9am and not look like you’re in a coma.
  6. You must keep your eyes on your bubble tea at all times.
  7. Define yourself and your brand from day one to avoid being ostracized by the cool kids (see bullet point #4).
  8. Elevators are a great place to mess around with your TA.
  9. Escalators are a great place to mess around with your prof.
  10. Messing around with your TA will substantially improve your marks.
  11. Fucking your teacher is a surefire way to fail a course (especially when they try to leave their partner for you).
  12. It is best to stand up in class, when asked to read a passage aloud.
  13. There’s no such thing frathouse sex parties.
  14. Everyone knows that the orgies are held at that one rich kid’s parents’ house in Kitsilano.
  15. The North American university system was designed to comprehensively fragment your mind into so many minute pieces, that you can only form coherent thoughts in the form of bulleted lists.


Posted in eavesdrop, Poetry, Uncategorized

softer now

The last time I visited
my mom, we sat around
and watched Citizen Kane all afternoon.

I was so bored, I kept dozing off.

She scolded me. Told me to stay
at home next time, if I was going
to treat her like my ex-wife.

Dad isn’t so judgemental.

He only knows about 30
words and phrases now, so he isn’t so hung up
on “the classics,” or reminding me
about my failed marriage.

He’s softer now.

I hate to admit it, but it’s really
helped to break down social barriers
between us. I’ll make him some nachos
and he’ll laugh at my jokes
about how he ever managed to stay with a woman
like mom.

Even if he doesn’t really understand
what I’m saying, it’s nice. It’s the closest,
I think, he’ll ever come to being able
to say, “I love you.”