From childhood scenes in Deep Creek to the restless migrations across Canada, A Dream of Sulphur explores the relationship between memory, Language, and geography. As a grandmother battles memory loss, a Hungarian is exiled to Canada, the Tofino fishing industry collapses, or August fire in the Shuswap prompts the largest evacuation in B.C. history, the crucible image of a Libby's bean can captures the central theme of flux and the inevitable recasting of home.

Aurian Haller is an award-winning poet and singer-songwriter. He is the lead singer in the aurian haller band, whose unique blend of folk, rock and jazz is supported by Haller's haunting lyrics. Haller's poetry has appeared in Arc, Descant, The Antigonish Review, and in his acclaimed collection, A Dream of Sulphur. He has won numerous national awards, including a National Magazine Award for poetry and the Malahat Review Long Poem Prize. Haller grew up in the foothills of the Rockies and now lives in Quebec City.

Aurian Haller's profile page

"In Aurian Haller's poetry, the mist is part of the machinery on the West Coast, along with the hoppers and flumes, fish knives and wharves. The might behind his metaphors is earned and appropriate; developed by a toil that looks for and finds freedom in new demands, new details of the task, outlined in land, sea and air. He proves that the mountains of labour to be done have a mind behind them, and that each person can lay their hand to the tools that transform a cyclical depression of industry and emotion into a new life." George McWhirter, poet and novelist, author of Catalan Poems and Cage. "A Dream of Sulphur is a journey across an expansive geography of place, time and Language - between the western interior plateaus and downtown Montreal, between generations, continents, Languages. In the end, Aurian Haller's lyrical voice arrives at a place of acceptance, where words are no longer rooted in time or place, but in the heart. These are the verses of a poet who has learned to make music from the rough and the overlooked." Laisha Rosnau, Prism