“beating my lazy part” by Sasha at her desk


Saturday June 23, 2017
6:09pm
5 minutes
Writing Down the Bones
Natalie Goldberg


Alanna smiles without her lips. Her cheeks smile. Her eyes smile. But her lips stay a straight line, like, “What? I don’t have to work to let you know I’m chill.” I notice this the first time we work together. It’s brunch and we’re slammed. “In the weeds” is what Alanna calls it, and she’s worked at a lot of places so I’m going to trust her on this. We have a good rhythm together – pouring orange juices, steaming milk, plopping eighteen dollar eggs down in front of very alien-like women who eat and eat but remain exceptionally trim. “Blow,” says Alanna, as I make eyes about an extra side of whipped cream. When we’re doing roll ups just after five o’clock Alanna tells me she already counted her tips and she made almost three hundred dollars.

“intimate questions” by Sasha on her balcony


Friday June 23, 2017
10:39pm
5 minutes
From an e-mail

I thought maybe we’d start by talking about the cities where we were born
I thought we’d start by making small talk about the weather or
the government
or
the smell of the season the smell of the summer
Instead you inside my head and you say

I know we’ve met before

We have

Yes

Oh

Mundane intimate words
Rubbing soft gentleness
Mundane words that mean
everything now
in my memory space
as I contemplate
the colour of our love

“intimate questions” by Julia on C’s couch


Friday June 23, 2017
10:34pm
5 minutes
from an e-mail

S gives me the idea
to interview my dad.
She’s interviewing hers.
She says she’s learning a lot.
I have always dreamt
of sitting down with
my father and talking with
him about the good stuff.
Like the time he crashed
the car, or the time he fell
in love with someone
who didn’t want him back
or the time he had his limp alcohol poisoned body
dragged home by his
parents who had to fetch
him from the underage
party at Lindsay’s house.
I want to know that he sees
himself in my mistakes and
that I’m not the only one.
That maybe I got some
extraordinary traits from
him beside my wild
curls and my penchant
for chili peppers.
I’d like to ask him if he’s ever regretted his anger
or if he’s ever had to
break up with an old
friend too.
You know
the good stuff.