Inside, a room packed full of beautiful. Al Purdy mingles
with the King of Kensington over burnt toast, while barking
seals spin coloured balls on their noses. Living. They talk
about the kid who just rolled in from the dumpster, the owls
watching high above, and the great things to come. David Suzuki
rides a carrousel horse, the camels spit opium, and Louis
Riel sings the blues. Come in and sit for a spell. Send poetry
and prose to Forget
Magazine. Hell-bent on beauty since ought-1Ed.