Tuft: “A bunch (natural or artificial) of small things, usually soft and flexible, �fixed or attached at the base.” OED

With Tuft, Kim Minkus takes us on flights of poetic fancy into futures where we “observe the green elite” and “iceplants bloom in the monotony of paved paths.” We tangle and climb into language and are swept into the lives of the animals that haunt the shores of our city’s waterways. This is a world where worker, lover, animal and poet unite. Minkus brings Venus and Satan into one sentence and in doing so unleashes the “bitter-broken-fallen” of our world. This is a gathering that calls out to the reader to pay attention and look closely. Tuft reminds us that without words our bodies would not exist and that only time makes us secret. We are all attached to something.

Minkus forms impossible compounds to do just what the best poetry must: express the inexpressible
– Stephen Collis, The Globe and Mail

Her utterly original voice is unlike any other in poetry.
– Judith Fitzgerald, The Globe and Mail