“what curious sense does it make?” By Sasha at her kitchen table


Tuesday January 10, 2016
2:45pm
5 minutes
Upstream
Mary Oliver


What curious sense does it make
the mouse nibbling the corner of
the book page, rice collecting at the bottom of
the bird cage
Tiny animals lined up in a row?

The majesty of monarchs
sending smoke signals up to the Gods
The killer whales sonar harmony
that’s just for the coral and
the lichen and the squid and the moss?

Pandora’s Box left open on the counter
tied in a red ribbon
wrapped in a green shawl
dusted with dirt and the smell of home.

You step closer.
You step closer.

You open it.

All of a sudden
it’s clear as the timer
as the coffee
as the inspiration!

All of the animals
aren’t in a row
They are in a circle
Stretching land and sea and sky!

They are in a circle
and they are singing
raising their calls.

“The Toy Box Burlesque” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Monday January 9, 2016
11:36pm
5 minutes
from a show postcard

There you were
all smoke and chapped lips
all donuts in the parking lot
all smelling of the past
There you were
on the bus going downtown
the bridge on stilts
people in their advent calendar windows
There you were
a toy box of our songs
a jack in the box of maybe
that flipped over and broke it’s springs
There you were
almost not seeing me
but then seeing me
and saying
Hello
Nice to see you
Where are you going
I’m sorry
I’m sorry
Nevermind
I should go
This is my stop
Shit
I should go
Fuck you
I’m sorry
I’m sorry

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“The Toy Box Burlesque” by Julia on Lindsay’s couch


Monday January 9, 2016
11:32pm
5 minutes
from a show postcard

When Gia gave me some of her old costumes I was in heaven. Birdie told me not to wear them cause I would catch her diseases and become a person of “interruption”…meaning my path to the lord might get a little patchy. I told Birdie I wouldn’t wear them because all I wanted to do was study them and use them as templates for my own sewing or building. Birdie nodded her head emphatically a few times before leaving as if to convince herself that I was telling the truth. She eventually left me and I was so excited to be alone with Gia’s beaded underwear and long satiny gloves. I pulled one glove on my arm, slowly, feeling every tiny hair brush against the smoothness. I peeled it off slowly, sliding the glove down my elbow and off my wrist with a patience I didn’t even know I had. When I finally revealed my last covered finger I could feel my insides rushing to greet me.