“let it come through.” by Julia on the 99


Saturday April 29, 2017
12:26am
5 minutes
From a quote by Jackson Pollock

I have been swallowing words of wisdom in case it looks like I think too highly of myself. She never asked for what I thought but her eyes told me she could use it. We don’t have to speak if we can’t improve the silence. I learned that somewhere. Maybe my sister said it once. Maybe she heard it from a good book or a peace keeper. I am working on communicating without speaking. I let the people who need voice give voice. I am working on letting it come through with skin and smiles and sound effects

“When I’m stressed” by Julia on the 99


Friday April 28, 2017
6:14pm
5 minutes
Look Outside Pt. 1
Rory Frances


Gina: Eden, stop chewing on your hair. You’ll swallow a huge glob of it one day and then you’ll choke on it and die.
Eden: Mind your own business. Do I tell you what to do?
Gina: Yes. You do.
Eden: I mean with your life. I don’t tell you things you should be deciding for yourself.
Gina: You would if I had as gross as a habit as you do. Don’t you know how dirty your hair is?
Eden: Hair isn’t dirty at all, brainiack! It touches my head, that’s it!
Gina: And your hands, and your clothes, and the air filled with carcinogenic smokes!

“When I’m stressed” by Sasha at her desk


Friday April 28, 2017
2:28pm
5 minutes
Look Outside Pt 1
Rory Frances


I’ll smack your entitlement right out of your
mouth punch your smug smile from those tight lips.
I’ll do it with words and squinty eyes and I’ll do it
with the very fact that I am better than you
at everything. I won’t actually smack you or punch
you, come on you know I’m a pacifist. Come on, you know
I’m trying to get better. I’ll taser you with my goodness.
I’ll roll you a spliff of the best kind of care.
I’m able to get down like that, sweet nothing. I’m able,
oh yes. You, standing tall with those wide shoulders,
you’re used to “people like me” fawning over your jaw,
and your dimples. Nope. Not this time. Not this person.
I won’t apologize after the smoking and the smacking
and the punching and the nothing. I’ll sing you a
lullaby. I’ll walk away. I’ll turn back. I’ll say,
“You’re an asshole.”

“an advanced degree in creative writing” by Sasha on her balcony


Thursday April 26, 2017
1:19pm
5 minutes
Big Magic
Elizabeth Gilbert


Sitting on her bed, the woman shoves
chocolate chip cookies into her mouth
one two three four five six seven.
She barely chews, inhaling the
sweet soft hardness, exhaling
the loneliness, the fatigue,
the face and the feet.
The woman has just been accepted
to an advanced creative writing program.
Three, in fact. She tastes the imposter.
She tastes the unlovable. She tastes
the big body big story big in a world
where she is only wanted if she is
small. She tastes the failure of the
places where she has not been accepted.
She catches herself. She sweeps crumbs from
the bedspread and walks to the bathroom.

“an advanced degree in creative writing” by Julia in the park


Thursday April 27, 2017
5:45pm
5 minutes
Big Magic
Elizabeth Gilbert


My mother always wanted to go to school but never believed she was the academic type. My father liked to tell her she was worthless on a daily basis so my mother didn’t believe she was much of anything. Once I watched him mash up the meatloaf she made and crumble it between his fingers until it was all on the floor. He smeared the sauce left on his hands across her forehead because he claimed it wasn’t warm enough. I watched my mother forget how to put on underwear the next morning because she couldn’t forget what he did. She couldn’t because nobody could.
I watched my mother model for me a woman who wanted so many things but got buried before she had time to even realize them.

“There were times when nothing played back.” By Sasha on her porch


Wednesday April 25, 2017
4:14pm
5 minutes
What It Is
Lynda Barry


When I was younger I laughed
at the synchronicity of seasons
how the robin shows her cheeky
face in the hours
before the magnolias the camellias
the cherry blossoms

“Make space for your stories”
my almost husband smiles into my ear
He is referencing the leaning tower
of books on my bedside table
in my knapsack
on the coffee table
the earbuds in my ears while
I steam kale
walk to the market
chase away nightmares

“There were times when nothing played back.” by Julia at the VPL


Wednesday April 25, 2017
6:13pm
5 minutes
What It Is
Lynda Barry


My sister and I used to make up songs about jello and school and Days Of Our Lives. We’d improvise them with our neighbour and choose funny nicknames and put on terrible accents. I still remember my big one. I am proud of the word play. I am proud that at 9 I was already writing songs.
wiggily jiggily wiggily jiggily wiggily jiggily wiggily jiggily
Jello can be very jiggily
jello can be very wiggily
jello can be very very cool
jello can be all sorts of flavours
jello can be all sorts of colours
Ooooooooh–
(here’s where I bopped my sister on the head and told her not to take a solo because this was MY song.)
Strawberry, cherry
lemon, or lime,
jello can be very fruity
or even the pudding kind
wighily jiggily wiggily jiggily

(I didnt say the songs I was writing were good.)

“and then he came down the stairs” by Julia at the New York


Tuesday April 25, 2017
11:49pm
5 minutes
Overheard in the kitchen

He is wearing a bandana around his neck and a new pair of toe shoes. I shudder.
“what? WHAT, ADI?”
“you look like…you look like someone else.”
“Nobody knows what you’re talking about, Adi, this is me.”
“That is not you! Are you kidding? Where did you even get a banadana?”
“This? This? This was a GIFT-you know what, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Fashion is subjective, haven’t you heard?”
I roll my eyes as far back in my skull as I can send them. He has a point but I can’t take him seriously when he’s dressed like this!
“You have a point, but I still can’t take you seriously when you’re dresses like this!”
“Adi–”
“Toe shoes?!?”

“and then he came down the stairs” by Sasha at her desk


Tuesday April 25, 2017
8:07pm
5 minutes
Overheard in the kitchen

“And then he came down the stairs and he said, ‘Steph, I have finally solved the mystery.’ I mean, I’d just gotten home, I had no clue there even was a mystery! Turns out, he’d been following Mrs. Drumville for the whole week and some real fishy stuff was going on. She was sending money to Mr. Drumville, even though they supposedly weren’t even speaking, and, she was stealing bouncy balls from the castle at the fair! Steve saw her! He even called her out on it but she completely denied it, saying that she’d gone to the Buck or Two and bought balls of her own! I mean, come on!”

“bald or willing to shave head” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Monday April 24, 2017
12:18am
5 minutes
From a casting call

His palms are sweaty. He’s pacing the green room. Never liked that term. Never really got what it means. He sips from the disposable water bottle and then play with the cap, screwing and unscrewing. Sip. Unscrew. Screw. Sip. Pace. He hears the applause from the presenter before him and he feels like he needs to pee again. Is there time? There’ll be an introduction, he’s pretty sure someone said that. His tie. Tighten his tie. Put on his jacket. His jacket. Where is his – … Ah, there it is. Unscrew. Sip. Screw. Unscrew. Screw.

“Did you know?” by Sasha at the Diamond Centre


Sunday April 23, 2017
11:35am
5 minutes
From a bus ad

Did you know that there are about one hundred and seventy billion galaxies in our universe? Yup. It’s true. Did you know that the milky way has four hundred billion stars? I KNOW. It’s pretty impossible to even imagine that quantity – … I know that we’re supposed to be doing our long division, but I’m, I’m bored of that and I just started reading a book about – … Okay. Okay. Fine. FINE.

“bald or willing to shave head” by Julia on her couch


Monday April 24, 2017
4:16pm
5 minutes
from a casting call

Souzan came back from her trip to Australia and shaved her head. Mind you, she was suffering from a spinal injury and it was too heavy to carry around her long hair, but for the record, she looks amazing. I think I have so much hair because the universe knows how weird my skull is shaped. I can’t imagine feeling beautiful without it. My identity is coiled around each curl. And yet, I feel like I need to do this before I die. To feel weightless. To feel naked. To feel like I don’t care how I am viewed by any one else in this life. I used to joke about shaving it all off when I was younger-the tangles made every comb through a nightmare. Once my Nonna asked if she could brush it after I had already styled it. I said yes because she is a tiny woman and I love her. But when she ripped a chunk of hair from my head I whipped the the brush against the mirror and shrieked to the entire world to “Never Touch Me Again”. She felt bad. Lesson learned all around, I suppose.

“Did you know?” by Julia on the 14


Sunday April 23, 2017
11:34am
5 minutes
from a bus ad

“Did you know that if you make your bed every day you’ll feel more accomplished? I read that in an article about the army and why they make you make your bed every morning. It teaches discipline and says to the world ‘I value my bed, my rest, my belongings, ETCETERA.’ I have been making my bed every morning, even if I have to get right back in it later to sleep. I have been feeling more accomplished. I like crossing off my to-do list. They say if you start your day with something easy then the rest of your day feels a whole lot more manageable. I told my sister this and she refuses to believe that it works. She doesn’t listen to me about anything. I’ve told her about vision boards and angel cards and manifesting and avoiding night shades but she does not like to be told anything. ”

“when you sign up” by Julia on the bathtub


Saturday April 22, 2017
9:43pm
5 minutes
From the Aeroplan flyer

The flyers keep filling up my mailbox. I am waiting for your letter. I have to check everyday that the flyers haven’t eaten it.

The summer was filled with mosquito bites and eye licking. You let me lick yours after we did mdma. We took photos of your keys and wallet from underneath the glass table.

You said you’d write and then you never did. I wished I didn’t care. Then you moved. And now neither of us know how to find one another.

“I want you to sleep beside me” by Julia on L’s couch


Friday April 21, 2017
10:22pm
5 minutes
said by Q

I cannot tell you what it means to be needed so well that your bones warm.
I say I love you to
a child that does not belong
to me
I do not plan this
nor all the joy I find in how easy it is to say
my blood bathes
I know this feeling
the one that makes us believe we are real
maybe because I don’t want him to go a night not hearing it before he sleeps while his mother is out there taking care of herself
I want her to succeed.
I want her child to be lifted.
Maybe I do love her child.
Maybe I have seen him.
wearing his souls’s clothes
Maybe he has laughed at every one of my jokes
with the same enthusiam and delight
laughing so easy
Maybe I wanted to.
maybe he was holding the mirror

“”when you sign up” by Sasha on her couch


Saturday April 22, 2017
7:00pm
5 minutes
From the Aeroplan flyer

It’s fine, like, if… if you want to come over before you go? I won’t be mad… like last time? I wasn’t seeing people, anyone, I wasn’t seeing anyone last month. It wasn’t personal. I didn’t go out. Thank fuck for those grocery delivery services. Did you know that Save On does it now? You can shop from your bed in your pyjamas. Come over… okay? Even if it’s for ten minutes. I have something I want to give you. I don’t know when I’m gonna see you next and I really just want to – … I’m not going to tell you what it is, but you’re going to want it. Trust me. Ah… It’s Mom’s bracelet, okay! I have it! I didn’t lose it in New Mexico, I have it, I didn’t want you to… I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.

“I want you to sleep beside me” by Sasha in her bed


Friday April 21, 2017
10:42pm
5 minutes
Said by Q

I want you to sleep beside me so that I can
travel your dreamscapes
your garden paths roses and camellias
charting the ups and downs of the river
underwater snaking underwater
the ledges and the resting rocks
in the way that sisters do
I want you to sleep beside me tonight
and hold me close feet touching
backs and arms and bellies and
I want to wake and make you porridge
like I did ten years ago
porridge with almond butter
coconut
apples
dates

“Judging your early artistic efforts” by Julia at Trees on Granville


Thursday April 20, 2017
2:20pm at Trees Organic
5 minutes
The Artist’s Way
Julia Cameron


The other day I found a note written on a teddybear notepad by my junior kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Beliveau. She signed her name with a heart in the ‘i’ and I remembered just how much I loved her-her and her soft nylons, and her “snot-free” desk (which I violated often and blamed on Justin Martens). The note was addressed to my parents telling them that I had a very nice first day of school: I painted a lot and loved story time (shocker), and sang a song for the class at Show And Tell (I remember this-I didnt bring something to show, like a doll or a toy I liked, so I made up a song and sang it for the class when it was my turn. Super shocker! Just kidding). I have always done this. Four year old me has always lnown this. Thirty year old me is grateful.

“Judging your early artistic efforts” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday April 20, 2017
8:48am
5 minutes
The Artist’s Way
Julia Cameron


hours at the round kitchen table
pencil crayons building

bungalows making circles
and roofs the paper

my playmate my confidante
my lover my dreamcatcher

embroidery thread spun
into small balls

the summer of the hair wrap
the friendship bracelets

Layah and I had a store out of the living
room where our parent’s friends would

purchase anklets for a quarter

“I had some excellent excuses for letting go of that wheel” by Sasha at her kitchen counter


Wednesday April 19, 2017
7:11pm
5 minutes
Year Of Yes
Shonda Rhimes


When I start working for Mary, she’s shaking and scratching but still won’t let go of the wheel. I’m there to help her, at least that’s what her daughter Clea said in the second interview. I didn’t meet Mary until after I was hired. Maybe Clea didn’t want her condition to scare me off.

“How many attendants has Mary had over the past few years?” I asked.

“We need someone who is the right fit,” Clea evaded the question, smiling.

“Of course,” I folded my hands in my lap and knew what I was getting myself into.

“I had some excellent excuses for letting go of that wheel” by Julia on the expo line


Wednesday April 19, 2017
6:18pm
5 minutes
Year Of Yes
Shonda Rhimes


I turned my phone off thinking I would get some me time in-some r&r, a personal party, you know, the good stuff. I was so proud of myself for unplugging that I forgot I was expected to answer not one phone call, but four different ones. I don’t know how I did it. They said No One Needs To Be Reached At All Times, but I did, in fact, need to be reached at all times! I needed to be reached by the woman who was taking over my job in two weeks, by my bank because of the credit card fraud, by the company that might not hire the person I was supposed to be a reference for, and by the dermatologist who casually dropped that the bump on my head might not be a benign fibroma afterall.

“silent as the folds of the yellow” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Tuesday April 18, 2017
5:40pm
5 minutes
Up
Magaret Atwood


He held me last night while I wept
nimbus and grey “Transitions are hard for you
honey” He said and I denied it and I swept it
under the wool couch pillow that used to belong
to a stranger’s grandmother A stranger mother
haunting the beige and the brown

I looked myself in the eye like I would a
daughter this morning Right there into the
middle into the black
“You can do this, my love,” I said and I
felt the hot water rise again boil again
It had been quite some time since I spoke
to myself with such tenderness

“I wish that we could talk about it” by Sasha at her desk


Monday April 17, 2017
11:46am
5 minutes
Someone Great
LCD Soundsystem

It’s the kind of morning that your mother
used to yawn about Laying in bed with a book
and a cold tea on the nightstand
The golf ball is in your throat again
but maybe this Earl Grey will wash it
down

It’s not a crisis of faith you hear yourself
say to your oldest friend It’s not anything
like that

“silent as the folds of the yellow” by Julia on her couch


Tuesday April 18, 2017
7:35pm
5 minutes
Up
Magaret Atwood


I think his tiptoeing around me is louder than he believes it is.
I don’t like feeling as if he’s afraid to rock the boat for no reason.
Am I really that horrible?
Am I that much of a bear?
Lately he hasn’t been singing in the shower.
I think I broke his spirit.
He’s afraid to do anything wrong in case I might revert to the dark months.
I told him not to worry about me but he wouldn’t hear it.
Yesterday I woke up to him silently removing all the pictures from the walls.
He was nervous that I’d hurt to look at them.
He thinks a bare wall with holes in it is better to look at than a wall with art.
I don’t know how to explain to him that I am fine.
He doesn’t believe me anyway.
He thinks everything I say is a beautiful story.
He over laughs when I speak even if it’s not funny.
He brings home plastic flowers from the dollar store and sneaks them into my rain boots.
He smooths the hair on my arms in the wrong direction.

“I wish that we could talk about it” by Julia on her couch


Monday April 17, 2017
11:35am
5 minutes
Someone Great
LCD Soundsystem

Somebody once told me that in order to trust myself I have to get good at naming what I need out loud. It makes sense-you can’t heal what you don’t admit is broken-but you can’t admit what needs love if you’re too afraid to hear the answer.
I can think back on multiple occasions where I had a sense inside but I was nervous to seek out a second opinion. I wish that we could have talked about it. I wish there was more time to shed light on every single issue because there is still so much I cannot even see. Bodies, for starters: mine and yours; separately and together,
the image we project of the skin we choose to believe we’re stuck in…

“How many nights” by Julia on her couch


Sunday April 16, 2017
7:57pm
5 minutes
Breach
Blair Trewatha


We mourn each day past with a song-we both cradle our heads at the month changing places, on a mission.
How many nights as children did we spend enjoying instead of worrying we were running out of time?
How many days did we write the date and think just how much can happen in a year?
This time we’ll sing (misty-eyed)
about the seasons; about the natural curve of the calendar
April come she will
April come she will

“How many nights” by Sasha on Granville Island


Sunday April 16, 2017
12:47pm
5 minutes
Breach
Blair Trewatha


I might start sending you a series of simple surveys.

one – Would you like for me to be here when you get home or casually out on a “run”/at “yoga”?

two – For tomorrow morning, please select all that apply:
lemon water and cayenne pepper
blowjob
chia pudding
making out
shower and go!

three – Thoughts on finding me in the same place you left me seven hours earlier? (short answer required)

four – How many nights per week do I actually fart in my sleep? (please circle one):
1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / every damn night

five – On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate my armpit smell?

six – Will we actually get a dog in the next year or two?
a) Yes, absolutely. YES!
b) Maybe… depends on our schedules
c) Now that I think about it, that is a terrible idea
d) Fuck no! I’ve been humouring you all along.

“Wherever you are” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Saturday April 15, 2017
2:41pm
5 minutes
The Promise
Tracy Chapman


M. brings me an avocado smoothie after
I’m vomited and shit
for three days straight
Too bad the walls are thin
Too bad the sun takes as much as it gives
He brings me up to the roof and we
look out
the ocean cresting a possible future
Kisses me and I laugh because his gaze
is so penetrating
I think about AIDS when we fuck and
then feel ignorant and sick
I vomit as soon as we’re done
my breasts resting on the toilet seat
M. holds my hair
Naked and retching
prayers over the loudspeakers
perched on top of the mosque

“Wherever you are” by Julia on her couch


Saturday April 15, 2017
3:49pm
5 minutes
The Promise
Tracy Chapman


Remy shows up on my doorstep with blood running from his nose onto his once perfect white collared shirt. He doesn’t even notice the bleeding, or that his eyes are wide until I recoil from his touch.
“Krista,” he says, “I’m here, I’ve made it. Let’s get married.”
My heart does a back flip and lands with a thud. I haven’t seen Remy in 2 years. The last time we spoke he told me he was going to get clean. He asked me to wait for him.
Liz is waiting behind the corner with a baseball bat ready to knock him out. I realize quickly that he has already been knocked out-and the likelihood of him doing that to himself, knowing Remy, is high.

“Certified manager” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Friday April 14, 2017
10:19pm
5 minutes
from a business card

Undress me with your knowing of the type of tear on my cheek. We listen to music loud because words aren’t enough, we need the melody too. And the lyrics talk about how we’ll die, how we all die, how love is light and heavy at the same time and we don’t know if we’ll rise or fall. My heart aches when we’re apart, but I like it too, like she sings, like the world sings. The wisdom of each year, the wisdom to know all that I don’t know, all that you don’t know, the mystery of birthdays and water from eyes.

“living in the ordinary world” by Sasha in the Kiva


Thursday April 13, 2017
10:42pm
5 minutes
From a Way of the Heart info sheet

Living in an ordinary world
like we all are
like the sound of the streetcar rattling
like a city haunted with
bike rides and kisses
scratched palms and farmers markets
Here we all are
now now now
shaking hands with history
nodding at future
making eye contact with what could have been
falling backwards into what is
Here we are
dancing circles around the
house where we grew up

“Let’s walk together.” By Sasha at the kitchen table on Lewis St.


Wednesday April 12, 2017
10:20am
5 minutes
From the Walk to Fight Arthritis flyer

Trying to keep the sadness at bay
holding my arm out like a stranger
is approaching
Dreaming of the snow bluffs the
gull cries
Dreaming of before the fall
I see you fingering your prayer
beads in my mind’s eye and I’m
sorry for the yelling
and I’m sorry
for the weight of the discontent
I want to promise you it won’t
be hard like this again
but I can’t
and I won’t apologize for that
I won’t because I don’t want to
lie to you
lie with you
lie on you
Your prayer beads lining my spine

“Do not be dynamic” by Sasha in the living room on Lewis St.


Tuesday April 11, 2017
10:33pm
5 minutes
Microphone Lessons For Poets
Helen Guri


Mickey isn’t sure about avocados, but Gloria eats them all the time so she learns how to embrace the strange texture. “I can’t believe you’ve never had avocado before?!” Gloria screeches, slathering half on a piece of rye toast. “It was hard to get good produce in the town where I grew up…” was Mickey’s excuse. “Where did you grow up?” Gloria bit down and closed her eyes. “You wouldn’t know it… Small town. Up north past Thunder Bay.” Mickey watches Gloria a lot. Ever since she moved in to Gloria’s two bedroom first floor apartment, she tries to find reasons to look away but struggles. Gloria is curvy, with long black hair and big brown eyes and she’s gorgeous, the most gorgeous woman that Mickey has ever seen.

“$1.6 million in prizes” by Sasha in the basement at Bowmore


Monday April 10, 2017
1:52am
5 minutes
From the sign on Mac’s Convenience

When you win the lottery, you are the kind of woman who still works. You cut back to part time. Three or four days a week. You supply the break room with seasonal treats, healthy ones, except at Halloween and Easter. No one knows who to credit, and you smile as Isaiah and Sean make guesses. You do your research and you give to a different charity every year. You sponsor a Syrian family to come to Canada, and you meet them at the airport thirteen months later and the little girl with braids down her back hugs you and calls you “Aunty”. You stop buying drugstore lipstick. You don’t feel badly about the money you spend on food. You have a gym membership and a yoga membership, even though you only do both once or twice a week.

“in her full out pyjamas” by Sasha in the bath


Sunday April 9, 2017
9:47pm
5 minutes
Overheard in the hallway

I want a pair of silk pyjamas. I feel very sophisticated when I put them on my Christmas list and ask my stepmother to buy me some – purple, with white pinstripes. I wear them the night I receive them. I feel like a queen, sliding into bed, the silk against my skin like a good dream. I fall asleep quickly and wake in the middle of the night in a sweat. What is wrapped around me restricting my movement suffocating my ribs and hips? Oh my god, get this shit off of me! I strip down, throwing my pyjamas beside the bed. When I wake in the morning I feel guilty. I promise myself that I’ll wear them on weekend mornings, to read and make breakfast. “They will be luxury loungewear,” I think.

“Certified manager” by Julia on her couch


Friday April 14, 2017
10:13pm
5 minutes
from a business card

Barry is my boss and also my father. He does not let me take home extra envelopes or paper clips. Once he said I could have the left over pinapple from the staff party, but other than that he’s a pretty big stickler for the rules. He’s the middle child so I guess you could say he was a big advocate for justice. Things always needed to be fair. Barry is a good boss and a good father. He sends me letters when I travel, he walks me all the way to the baggage drop off at the airport. Barry has a picture of me in his wallet singing into a toy microphone. He tells his other emplpoyees very little about himself. I’m the only one who knows his birthday.

“living in the ordinary world” by Julia at her desk


Thursday April 13, 2017
8:58am
5 minutes
From a Way of the Heart info sheet

we show up to life sometimes jaded
sometimes living in the ordinary world
after living somewhere else with better windows
our windows here are covered in fingerprints
and year old messages birthed from
a New Year’s resolution
that we were too afraid to erase
our windows are as guarded as our hearts
which is to say
we haven’t drawn the blinds in ages
to exist in this place where
the sun rises each morning
no matter how shy
and sets each evening
no matter how bright
we must become fluent in gratitude
thank the stars for breathing us into belief
thank our mothers for smiling love into our bones
thank our fathers for being fathers when they could have been
anything else
thank our health for holding us
thank our souls in this life
for reminding us why we chose each other
in the first place

“Let’s walk together.” by Julia on her couch


Wednesday April 12, 2017
2:29pm
5 minutes
From the Walk to Fight Arthritis flyer

it is always raining here
we thought we’d get used to
having wet bones
we thought we’d get used to a dull sky, in perpetual erase
my mother has loved me vitamin d
from another province
her voice liquid sunshine in my ear when I wonder why my joints
feel heavy
we wake up to find that the webbing draped across our window
is not the kind that comes away
with wishing

“Do not be dynamic” by Julia on her couch


Tuesday April 11, 2017
10:37pm
5 minutes
Microphone Lessons For Poets
Helen Guri


do not make any sudden movements
do not move your head or your eyes
do not express an opinion
do not engage outside of your peripheral vision
if you need to practice how to be still
how to feel less
then please do so
practice being unmoved by beauty
practice being unphased by magic
practice being unchanged by other human instances
do not be dynamic
do not vibrate too quickly
do not let them see you in motion
do not say anything
do not know anything
do not let your thoughts require air
do not beg the wind to carry you
do not write a poem
do not need to speak it

“$1.6 million in prizes” by Julia on the 99


Monday April 10, 2017
6:42pm
5 minutes
from the sign on Mac’s Convenience

Jenna turns 19 and buys her first lottery ticket
she’s going to open up her own hair salon with those sitting hair dryer hoods and everything
The banner flapping in the wind says “$1.6 million in prizes!” and Jenna needs to go after any chance that presents itself
she phones Zach from the parking lot and tells him that she just got a sign from God
Zach tells her to buy two tickets because he feels lucky for some reason too
Zach always feels lucky when he’s spending Jenna’s money

“in her full out pajamas” by Julia on her couch


Sunday April 9, 2017
9:44pm
5 minutes
overheard in the hallway

walks into the store
in her full out pajamas
b lines it all the way to the frosters
pumps two XL cups in rainbow layers
chugs half of the first one then tops it off with more
green syrup fuses to the corners of her mouth
lime flavoured wings
drags her feet to the counter
pays in bottle caps and pocket lint
throws in a box of saltines
at the last minute
wipes her mouth on the arm of her fleece
drags her sneakers too big for her feet
across the floor
laces trailing behind

“bound in chains” by Sasha at her coffee table


Saturday April 8, 2017
9:21pm
5 minutes
Poems
Christopher Marlowe


“Teenagers chew chips like this,” Clara opens and closes her mouth loudly crunching. She shoves three more chips in, at once, and laughs, spewing them everywhere. “Where have you even met a teenager?” Viv asks her. “You! You’re one!” She looks at Viv adoringly and hands her a chip, a good crispy one, like Viv likes. “I’m a bit older than that, Clara,” Viv smiles and eats. “Are we going to have ice cream before bed? That’s what teenagers do on sleepovers,” Clara has finished the chips in the bowl.

“bound in chains” by Julia on her couch


Saturday April 8, 2017
9:32pm
5 minutes
from Poems by Christopher Marlowe

we can’t touch pain that does not belong to us
we watch from behind our screens
and from behind our great luck
we think we know what it’s like to be broken but we don’t
not when the chains we use to bind ourselves are made out of paper
macaroni necklace nooses
tie dyed t-shirts dressed up as bullet holes
we have no idea about loss
when we’ve never lost anything

“Secret Society” by Sasha in her bed


Friday April 7, 2017
10:52pm
5 minutes
From the Quo eye palette

One foot. The other foot. One foot. The other foot. Step. Step. You can do it. You can do it. Just to the bathroom. Just to the toilet. Head heavy. Feet heavy. Eyelids heavy. One foot. The other foot. Step. You can do it. You want to be out of bed today when Sue gets home. You want to be better. You want to have dinner on the table, even if it’s something easy like a grilled cheese sandwich. One foot. The other foot. Press your palm against the wall. Deep breaths.

“you might think she was an angry woman” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Thursday April 6, 2017
12:59pm
5 minutes
The Birth House
Ami McKay


“You’re not going to get pregnant and have to quit or something, right?” I looked down at my hands in my lap, clasped tight.

“I’m not sure if you’re allowed to ask me that?” I wish I hadn’t phrased it as a question. I wish I’d said, “You’re not allowed to ask me that.”

I wonder about my friends who are men, who are also finishing graduate school, who will also go on a series of good, bad, demoralizing, funny, awkward interviews. I wonder about these men, fine men, good, kind men, and if a man in a purple tie might ask them about their future babies?

Unlikely.

“Thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch.” A clammy handshake.

“Thank you,” a knot in my throat, brow slightly furrowed, I go into the bathroom and change my shoes.

“Secret Society” by Julia on the toilet


Friday April 7, 2017
10:51pm
5 minutes
from the Quo eye palette

1) there are no new joiners
2) every new joiner needs to learn the creed
3) no new joiners after April 1st
4) new joiners allowed if owner of a vehicle
5) new joiners allowed if owner of a beard
6) tuna tuesdays in effect- NO NEGOTIATION
7) we rise 5 minutes before dawn
8) no alarm clocks- NO EXCEPTIONS
9) mismatched socks must make acceptable case publicly PRIOR to breakfast
10) heartbreak corner off limits until further notice

“you might think she was an angry woman” by Julia on the fun chair


Thursday April 6, 2017
12:49pm
5 minutes
The Birth House
Ami McKay


don’t hide your teeth
this world is due for a lesson
woman with fangs
woman with blood
the soft spun into a breastplate
of armour
is not made to protect weakness
woman with impusle
woman with growl

whoever decided to paint her
holding a flower
and said that
she wouldn’t hurt a fly
was hoping everyone would
be too stupid to question
whoever decided to paint her
mouth closed
was wrong about her weapons

“regular procedures” by Sasha at her desk


Wednesday April 5, 2017
12:40pm
5 minutes
From the thesis formatting guidelines

You can ask for what you really want sweet thing
I’ll turn on your power switch and we’ll ride
into the dark night with nothing but lipstick
and bathing suits
nothing but tequila and toasted english muffins

I was never sure about the deep azure of your dreaming
it turned by stomach with it’s vibrancy
with it’s tenacity
and now I’m the one chugging coffee
with my foot on the gas
pushing
pushing harder
harder
faster
pushing

Hysterical laughter over the irreverence
of the wish
“Ambition is a dirty word” you say

“regular procedures” by Julia at her desk


Wednesday April 5, 2017
12:53pm
5 minutes
From the thesis formatting guidelines

I am sitting across from you
you are either editing your novel
(YOUR FUCKING NOVEL!!)
or worrying about being ripped off
Even when you’re busy you look up when it’s time
mouth 1234 to me and smile
wait for me to stop what I’m doing
so I don’t miss it
so I don’t forget to believe in magic

I am sitting across from you
you are either playing a new riff on your guitar
or researching guitars that have headphone jacks
this is a very nice gift for me
even though it comes at a cost for you

I am sitting across from you
I am either telling the world about you
or trying to sell my clothes online
our feet are touching
it’s nice

you told your contract job that your girlfriend
isn’t too happy about you working from home
because she has now gained an office mate
but no other office mate
has let me rest my feet on his before

“Amusement park adventures” by Sasha on her couch


Tuesday April 4, 2017
10:47pm
5 minutes
From The YouTube video Joe is watching

“You’ve relieved so much of my guilt, Sandy… Thank you so so much.” Julie cut the crusts off of the egg salad sandwiches. “I’m tired of feeling guilty,” Sandy said, popping ice out of a pink tray and into the punch bowl. Julie knew what she meant. She’d been up half the night with Tommy who had had some awful nightmares. Julie had wondered if it was because she’d started back to work. Maybe Tommy wasn’t ready to be left with Consuela. Maybe everything was happening too fast.

“I’m thinking about taking Gabriel and Kimberly to the amusement park on Sunday, would you and Tommy like to come?” Sandy came close to Julie and smiled. Julie could smell her perfume. Something expensive. Lily of the valley and vanilla.