Grim findings near Lake Fever.
Just checking out all the CDs from the Tragically Hip. I’m living in a dreamland, deep in a pristine toilet bowl of my imagination. From a drunk story lost in Brewington, I’m carefully watching Lake Fever. Drought is shrinking one of Canada’s largest reservoirs, revealing a hidden canyon and a “tragic” compact disc under a lake. It’s my own disc world. A new place for my entire CD collection. I can hear the water.
I found an old CD with “Scared” by The Tragically Hip on it, and it stopped me in my tracks — the kind of discovery that pulls you right back into a moment you thought you’d outgrown. I realized I’d always been afraid to read Gord’s book, maybe because I wasn’t ready to face the honesty in his words or the echoes they might stir up in my own. Back then, I used to write poetry, scribbling lines in notebooks like I was trying to map my way through the world, and finding that CD reminded me about the craziness of hip songs and poems. It just skipped.
A few things were found in old Lake Fever, but it would never be made relevant again.
I looked down the toilet bowl, and I remembered everything else had been lost in Lake Fever.
I didn’t want to hear anymore. It was sounding redundant.
Technossance Magazine 