“How many nights” by Julia on her couch

Sunday April 16, 2017
5 minutes
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
5 minutes
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
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
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