The fruit of 11 day’s labour, our quinzee, was christened last night at 8:15 by candlelight, with red wine, Tio Pepe, chocolate, and the soon-to-be culinary classic, Saskatchewan poutine (cheezies dipped in ancient creme de cacao – try it.) Fellow St. Pete’s poet, Lorri, coined the word “Quinzine” for this unique combo of nosh.
abbot poet priest poet proseman poet (sms) in the quinzee
Nine quinzeeites spent an hour laughing, libating and eating, before frozen bum set in, then slipped silenty down the birth canal of the quinzee, out into the cold, starred night.
A 3/4 moon. A falling star.