Author Archives: Angeline Schellenberg

About Angeline Schellenberg

Angeline Schellenberg’s debut collection Tell Them It Was Mozart (Brick Books, 2016) won three Manitoba Book Awards. In 2019, she launched three chapbooks and was nominated for The Pushcart Prize and Arc Poetry Magazine’s Poem of the Year. Host of Winnipeg’s Speaking Crow poetry reading series, Angeline recently published Fields of Light and Stone (University of Alberta Press, 2020).

Two Yahoo! Poems

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If you die in Canada do you die in real life? —Yahoo inquirer

If you die in Canada, the bears beat their breasts
until the berries in their fists bleed and the Mounties
ride backwards. If you die in Canada, you fall through the ice
and land in Michigan.

At 7:30 in Newfoundland, the wood for your casket
will be harvested, sustainably, by David Suzuki
and the Beachcombers. Die in Canada and the Canada geese
fly in a lowercase v.

If you die in Canada, you’ve lived in Canada: the tilled,
the untold. And if you die tonight, without me near, dear brother—
all of Canada will be sorry.


Encaustic by Lisa-Maj Roos showing a red maple leaf

Maple Leaf by Lisa-Maj Roos


Is having a dog a sign of communistic behaviour? —Yahoo inquirer

The animal is a sign of a need, surely—
one that we’re too frightened
to say out loud.

Not a need to hold each other,
necessarily. Not the need of weak-willed men
to tell someone when to sit or fetch.

Perhaps it is a need to know
the scraps falling from our table
are not wasted,

or know the hairs
on our carpets are not our own.

Vladimir Lenin had a cat that he posed with
but never named.


Listen to Angeline Schellenberg read “If you die in Canada….”


Listen to Angeline Schellenberg read “Is having a dog….”