I don’t take public transit very often, which is a failing—not just environmentally, but also personally, because sometimes that forced contact with the rest of the populated world can be profound. In Japan, many years ago, I was trapped in the small space between train cars by a crowd of schoolboys; my claustrophobia reached such a level that one leg began to judder up and down like the needle on a sewing machine, and the only thing that prevented me from climbing out over the tops of my fellow passengers’ heads was the gaze of a man about a foot away who conveyed calm to me by keeping his eyes trained on mine.
Geist is the Canadian magazine of ideas and culture—every issue brings together a sumptuous mix of fact + fiction, photography and comix, poetry, essays and reviews, and more of the weird and wonderful from the world of words.
Geist distills the Canadian imagination into a tactile, stackable, admireable, finishable and entirely shareable magazine.
Notes & Dispatches from ADRIAN RAIN, HOLLIE ADAMS and KATHY PAGE; New fiction by PAUL DHILLON; Feature essay from EMILY LU; Comics by ONJANA YAWNGHWE and YOKO OJI KIKUCHI; Poetry by NOFEL; Winners of the 2023 PolterGeist Writing Contest, and much more!
SIGNUP TO OUR NEWSLETTER
SIGN-UP TO OUR NEWSLETTER
.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)
