”What beauty, friend, grows in your darkness?” By Sasha at her kitchen table

Thursday August 22, 2019
8:27pm
5 minutes
Freeing The Creative Spirit

Adriana Diaz

I don’t take the shot, but I aim. I hold the gun in shaking hands. I smell cement, rain, pine needles. I remember how my father used to smoke a bong in the morning and leave it on the table. I remember how my father’s wife, Ursula, used to dump the bong water in the toilet and when I’d go to pee I’d see the strange colour, smell the strange smell. I smoked my first joint when I was ten. My father rolled it. Now, I hold this gun in my hands and I’ve never felt so big and so small. Time is the great kaleidoscope. My father’s voice in my ear, “DO it.” Ursula died of breast cancer last November. It was the first time I ever saw my father cry.

“I was supposed to have the afternoon off” by Sasha at her desk

Saturday April 13, 2019
8:02am
5 minutes
Truckin’
Ken Mitchell

Bill is rolling a cigarette out behind the dumpster and I’m pissed because I’m trying to quit but he’s there tempting me every time I want to take a break.

“WTF Bill!” I say, and he doesn’t look up. He licks his lips. “You know I’m tryin’ to quit! Least you could do is pull that milk cart outta sight, or somethin’!”

I go for a walk around the block. This guy is not going to get to me. This guy is not going to get to me. I’ve smoked for six years and I don’t even want to think about how many days this has chopped off my life. How Bill’s heart is still beating is a question that remains unanswered. The guy must be at least sixty now, but he has that ageless wrinkle thing goin’. Hard life, I guess.

“He thumped his chest” by Sasha at her desk

Sunday March 3, 2019
4:12pm
5 minutes
Casual Vacancy
J.K Rowling

Bruno thumps his chest and runs around the dining room like he’s high on something. I hate this family. Who has three kids under the age of six and then pawns them off on babysitters ten hours a day? Who expects said babysitters to potty-train their little vermin? Who thinks it’s okay to leave housekeeping duties to a babysitter who is making sixteen dollars an hour and being punched, puked on and screamed at?! Why do I do this to myself! Milo sticks his hand in his diaper, pulls out some shit, and tries to eat it. I’m leaving.

“lured into my childhood home” by Sasha at MacKenzie beach

Tuesday October 9, 2018
2:42pm
5 minutes
The Stray
Stephen A. Waite

We play Monopoly lying on our stomachs on the carpet
in front of the woodstove. Mom is out for a cross
country ski. We just filled our bellies with hot
chocolate, more than we’re allowed to have, more than
is good for us, but that’s okay. You put another
log into the mouth of the stove, and I jump up
because there are sparks, and fire is brave.
You know how to turn the damper. You know how to
be the banker. We hear Mom banging her skis on
the porch.

“And we never talked about that.” By Sasha on her couch

Friday August 31, 2018
12:02pm
5 minutes
A Love Letter To Lost Sisters
Hywel Tuscano

We never talked about how it was that you came to be so full of crimson temptation and peaked righteousness. It just appeared, somewhat like you did, sat across from me on the train. We never talked about it because I thought that to love you I had to endure (that’s another story) and that unconditional means forgive forgive forgive.

We started speaking less altogether, just a grunt or a thank you or a goodnight. It happened slowly, as many things do – corrosion, erosion, rustt, growth.

“for a lot of people” by Sasha at JJ Bean

Tuesday November 28, 2017
6:12pm at JJ Bean Olympic Village
5 minutes
Overheard at JJ Bean

Isaac smiles a beautiful smile, no more braces on his teeth. I’d forgotten there were three Cyr boys. I’d forgotten that the eldest had found their mother hanging in her closet. I’d forgotten they’d all – Isaac, Lionel, Gunther – been a handful, gotten mixed up with bad kids, but they weren’t the bad kids, they were the good kids mixed up with the bad kids. After working in a high school for thirteen years, you know the difference. You know the good from the bad. A lot of people don’t, a lot of people get confused. Not me. Not anymore.

“peel and core the remaining apples.” by Sasha at her desk

Sunday November 19, 2017
11:08am
5 minutes
Apples
Andrea Albin

My mother makes baked apples
And I’m sad that dessert is something
With more sugar
More sweetness
Baked apples are glorified apple sauce
And she thinks it’s exciting that there’s oats
Sprinkled on top
A dusting of cinnamon

My mother bakes the apples in the toaster oven
It’s how she makes baked potatoes too
She puts raisins in too

I don’t know yet that betrayal is a spell
That will take lifetimes to break

I don’t know yet that dreams won’t come true

And they will

I don’t know yet that there will always be something
About this time of year

When my mother makes baked apples
I close my eyes and imagine it’s chocolate

“mouth guards aren’t just for hockey” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Saturday November 18, 2017
10:41pm
5 minutes
yourdentalhealth.ca

Coach says that we should wear mouth guards but I hate them. They make me feel like I’m drooling. Coach tells us stories about how guys have had their teeth knocked out, how they had to spend thousands and thousands on dental work. “Don’t make me tell you the story about the implants,” coach says.

I’m the biggest guy on the ice. That’s a fact. If anyone tries to knock me, they are toast. No one is getting close enough to me to touch my arms, let alone my teeth.

I wore one once and it took me back to first grade when I couldn’t speak properly…

“SEE ALL” by Sasha on her couch

Thursday November 16, 2017
11:52pm
5 minutes
http://www.bestbuy.ca

The front of my fleecy is wet. SHE SEES ALL. Have I been sweating again? Have I been crying again? SHE KNOWS YOU’RE WET. There are more than seven balled up tissues on the floor at my feet. I pick them up. I put them in the waste basket beside the lavender couch. I swat at a fruit fly.

“Would you like to pay by cheque or card?”

I am furious that Noreen has the audacity to ask me to pay for this divine interaction. God was here with us. Do we pay to go to church? Not where I come from.

“Card please.”

“What it means to have light” by Sasha in the garden

Wednesday September 20, 2017
10:52pm
5 minutes
from the LIT call for artists

My father wraps string lights around his hand, down to his elbow, around his hand, down to his elbow. He’s telling me something, but I’m only listening with my eyes. We’ve just eaten lunch – a chickpea salad – and I know what his breath smells like. Mine smells the same. I know what it means to have light between us, and to feel it, and to know it like I know the Christmas Carol. I know what it means when his eyes fall, when he laughs like only slapstick can make him laugh.

“This one has more nuts” By Sasha at Bump n’ Grind


Wednesday September 13, 2017 at Bump n’ Grind
12:38pm
5 minutes
Overheard at Bump n’ Grind

When I speak to her, I taste egg salad sandwiches on white bread, lots of mayo. The phone rings again fuck fuck fuck I don’t want to answer. But I do. This is my practice, I say. Show up show up. Hi. Hi. Blah blah on on on stress drugs. I know I’m not making sense but I can’t be fully clear because I don’t want to betray and five minutes isn’t a lot of time and I might run out before I can find the happy ending. HA. There’s pickle in that egg salad. Sweet pickle. I open up the sandwhich and pick each bit out, building a tiny fortress on the counter, amongst all these god damn dishes.

“astral projection, stress and depression” by Sasha in the bath


Tuesday September 12, 2017
10:42pm
5 minutes
Binaural Beats & Healing Sounds on YouTube

No one’s here to help baby
No one’s here to help

Magic mushroom toast root bake festival
Astral projection
Stress and depression
Forests of consumerism
Extra large M’s and double D WHY’s
Shaking our devices in our sister’s faces
Shaking our devices so we can feel somebody
Find a chin hair shake a leg
Take a bow and call for help
9-1-1 is just a static
9-1-1 is just a dial tone

No one’s here to help baby
No one’s here to help

Cocaine snow angels
In the ashes of our mothers
Water tastes like urine and coffee
Coffee is urine
Urine is coffee
The land’s most trusted caregivers
Are gathered in a place made of cardboard
And needles and songs
Stress and depression
Coffins under the ground layer

No one’s here to help baby
No one’s here to help

“more than 20 pages” by Sasha on her balcony


Monday September 11, 2017
1:15am
5 minutes
from bcartscouncil.ca

I haven’t written anything in forty three days
I feel like shit
I want to live in my bed amongst stray hairs and dust bunnies
I won’t take the dog out
She can shit on the balcony in the herbs I haven’t watered

This is what you tell me

I hold your grief for the millionth hour
And I watch as you fall into her like a lover
I cradle your grief here in this public space
In this shop where there’s croissants and babies

We are etched into one another’s star signs
We are tattooed on our guts
We are sisters here in this hot asphalt jungle
Cars honking and streetcars lurching

This is what I tell you

“never been good at multitasking” by Sasha at the kitchen table


Sunday September 10, 2017
10:56pm
5 minutes
From a text

You’ve never been good at multitasking, sweet one track mind. You complete tasks one-by-one, diligent and focused. If something gets in your way, say, a phone call or the toaster dinging, you are off course, whirling into oblivion. You’ll put on some Eartha Kitt and dance around the living room. You’ll eat blueberry jam from the jar, fridge door open. You’ll call me at work, and ask if I can talk and tell me how one day you’d really like to go to space. I laugh, and say I have to get back to work. You say, “Shit. Me too.”

“I could be wrong” by Sasha on her couch


Friday September 8, 2017
12:25am
5 minutes
Overheard at Oak and 16th

I could be wrong but when Steve called, I don’t know, I just felt like I had to tell him. Who are we to make that choice for him, Mom? Seriously! I’m sorry if you feel it’s not my place, but I can’t just stand here and act like someone, Steve, shouldn’t have choice in whether he fucking lives or dies. Mom. Listen to me. LISTEN! He is not a dog! He has a voice! This isn’t about putting down an animal! Okay, I don’t want to fight with you. I don’t want to…

“stomach discomfort” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday September 7, 2017
10:25pm
5 minutes
saje.com

My stomach knew you weren’t to be trusted
I was sick for months with the twisting and turning and writhing
Once I pressed the metal bowl by my bedside to my skin
crawling over it like a slug
the cool pressure relieving all of the things I didn’t know

The more I ached the more I knew that something
was wrong but the older I get the more I know
that when something’s wrong it takes it’s time
and will send the memo when all parties are ready

The last time I saw you was waiting to board a plane
back home

“You waited for me to let you learn” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Wednesday September 6, 2017
5:16pm
5 minutes
Yours Is This
Julia Pileggi


You waited for me to let you learn
slow like a crocus or a grandmother
Slow like I’ve come to know is true
Fast used to whisper to me from under
the bed taunting that I could never
get to where I wanted without moving
FAST
Now I’m wiser or something and I don’t
prize the fast I don’t look on those
bunnies and say
WOW
I wish for that life

“meeting your heart’s longing.” By Sasha at her desk


Tuesday September 5, 2017
6:11pm
5 minutes
The Invitation
Oriah


Lion’s roar in the morning
and we’re off in these trenches
crawling on arms and my core’s not
strong I know that and you’re tired
and I know that
We’re overtalking but it’s all I’ve got
these pudding words these greys and whites
The smokey sky is ominous
and we bark and we cry and we we we we
We’re ready
you say
We’ve got this
you say
Doubt rains heavy
Faith dances on my fingertips only when
I write
So I do
I write to you
I write a manifesto to my great-granddaughter
I tell her
Trust yourself
The wisdom of your fulfillment is inside you
I tell her
Rise up from the heaviness that’s plagued us
for generations

“Woman suspended” by Sasha on her balcony


Monday September 4, 2017
11:54pm
5 minutes
From the BBC News app

pink bras lacy bras white for white dress shirts bras strapless bras peach bras pushup bras sports bras old bras bottom of the barrel bras got too drunk it that bra bras second hand bras hand me down bras wedding bras cleavage bras comfy bras line-leaving bras red bras show the world bras peek-a-boo bras underwire bras soft as a baby’s bum bras give me now bras fuck me bras no bras summer bras always want to be seen bras backless bras

“Why does having children” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Sunday September 3, 2017
11:59pm
5 minutes
Don’t Even Think About It: why our brains are wired to ignore climate change
George Marshall


So many babies already born
already needing love
already hurting
already here
So many babies taking up
so much space
I read about climate change
I read about destruction
over and over
and I know the stats I know the reasoning

And yet

Everything in my body says
MAKE LIFE
Everything in my body says
GIVE ME A BABY
I never thought myself traditional
I never thought myself wanting
wanting wanting a generation of
longing paid to want paying for the want

“If your passport is damaged” by Sasha at her desk


Saturday September 2, 2017
11:39pm
5 minutes
From the passport booklet

Every time someone looks at my passport, they say, “Nice picture.” And it is. I look warm, open, the faintest hint of a smile tickling my lips. I’d ridden my bike to the passport office so I had the endorphins flowing. I remember my mother bringing her first passport into my room when I was nine or ten. She was a teenager. I looked at the picture so closely I could see the dots of ink.

“you are the first woman I’ve touched” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Friday September 1, 2017
10:57pm
5 minutes
Pearl in the Mist
V.C. Andrews


When we arrived at the camp, Yaza kissed each of our foreheads and offered us a glass of golden milk. Mother declined and so I declined too. Yaza frowned. “Why won’t you drink?” She asked. Mother smiled, but without showing her teeth of course. She spoke quietly,

“We know that there is a shortage. We don’t want to – ”

Yaza interrupted sternly, “You are one of us now. What’s ours is yours. Don’t be silly.” She motioned to her assistant. “Rebecca, bring us some golden milk and a few figs, please. Lisbeth and Tabora have travelled far to join us.”

I was entranced by the colour of Yaza’s hair. I’d never seen anything like it. Grey, but a bright grey, a grey I couldn’t place. She wore her hair in three braids down her back and they swayed as she walked.

“You said not to read his old texts” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday August 31, 2017
9:24pm
5 minutes
From confidential sides

It starts in the morning
before you’re awake
I creep towards where your phone
is plugged in
Unassuming
Gentle turtle
I don’t know your passcode
but I will
I will learn it
and then I will
I will
read your
emails
texts
missed calls
made calls
listen to your voicemails
I will not listen
to your voicemails
That is an invasion of privacy
That is something only
a monster would do

“drove up to the prison” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Wednesday August 30, 2017
11:49pm
5 minutes
This American Life episode 282

I never thought that I would, I mean, I never knew that… Wait. Can I start over? I don’t know… I’m not good when I’m on the spot. I finished high school, even started community college something but I can’t… I’m nervous. If Jay was here I’d be… I’d be… I drove up to the prison last Saturday, for visits… Went all alone. Sometimes his mama wants to come and I’m not gonna deny her that, she has the right to see her son. She doesn’t drive so… It’s hard. It’s hard.

“He presses a button” by Sasha in her bed


Tuesday August 29, 2017
10:02pm
5 minutes
From VO sides

He presses a button and the ceiling opens. Tens of thousands of butterflies swirl like soft serve ice cream. All shades of purple and blue, all moving and swimming and flying and wow wow I’ve never I’ve never. I smile and it feels really good because it’s been days since I smiled and that’s not normal for me. Jim looks over. “I told you,” he says, and it’s true, he did tell me and I didn’t believe him because who would who really would if they said what Jim said I mean Jim says a lot of stuff and it’s not always true. I never knew that a place like this could be be be here. I never knew that Jim, of all people, would have the key, hanging around his neck like something he maybe got at a garage sale. The sky turns dark and the butterflies disappear I can’t imagine where they go and Jim says, “We had better get back.”

“finding my people in unexpected places” by Sasha on her couch


Monday August 28, 2017
11:50pm
5 minutes
Bad Feminist
Roxane Gay


I’m watching the fiftieth video of the day. I can’t stop. I can’t stop this insane addiction, I’m not judging myself but it’s just the truth. I am obsessed with the purple paste that these Queens use to cover their real eyebrows. And then the whole new set that they draw on way up on their foreheads. OBSESSED. If I could just just watch the eyebrow stuff I might, I really might. Who knew that these would be my people?

“it was a God that acted through me.” By Sasha on her balcony


Sunday August 27, 2017
12:04pm
5 minutes
Disgrace
J.M. Coetzee


Some days she forgets why she’s trying
why she’s waking and walking and eating and fucking
Some days she only rises to piss and eat a rice cake
over the sink
Some days she lets the phone ring even though she knows
it’s her mother and she misses her mother and she wants
nothing more than to speak to her mother
This is one of those days
This is one of those days
She peels an avocado and bits of green flesh get
on the sheets and shit she didn’t want to make
more of a mess.

“Host art classes” By Sasha at her kitchen table


Saturday August 26, 2017
11:52pm
5 minutes
From a business card


I really wanna make Mama proud, you know. She spent a whole lotta time not being proud of me when I was younger and getting into all that trouble. We don’t need to talk about that, but like, it wasn’t a good scene and I caused her a whole lot of stress. So I wanna make her proud! Like the kinda proud where she smiles really big and acts like I’m the kid she’s always dreamed of having! I ask Kim if I can use the barn at the back of her property, just on Saturdays to start. She says that it needs a real good clean, but I can do that, I can do that for this.

“street cake!” By Sasha at her kitchen table


Friday August 25, 2017
9:12pm
5 minutes
From a text

I preheat the oven while you select a record. I’m not sure what exactly you choose, we’ve been hitting up garage sales, but it’s sexy and it’s got vocals and some horns, so it’s all good. You asked for cake this morning, and all day at work I dreamed about what wouldn’t require softened butter. I dreamed about caramel and vanilla, or, chocolate, yes! Chocolate. I use coconut oil because it’s so very good for you and I sift the ingredients and you watch me and sometimes grab at me and I push you away but only for now.

“if everyone else forgets” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday August 24, 2017
6:55pm
5 minutes
From a greeting card

In 1976 it’s the coldest birthday you’ve ever had
February brings hail and relentless freezing
Marg and Bob forget too
and that makes everything colder
Brittle and bone-chilling

You get home from your job
as a teller at the bank
and Bob is in his chair
CBC is on the radio
Marg is hacking at a frozen slab
of pork or at least it looks like pork

“Hey hon,” Marg says not looking up
You feel
tears behind your eyes
at least something’s hot
Your cheeks burn

You go upstairs and close your door
and lament still living with these two
who you’ve sworn to no longer call
mother
father
Marg
Bob
You roll a joint and hang your head out the window
like you’re fourteen again

“Christian Science Reading Room” by Sasha in her bed


Wednesday August 23, 2017
11:46pm
5 minutes
From a storefront on West Broadway

Words are my best lover
knowing when to go slow and move slick
Whisper whisper the sweet fuck
I cradle my notebook like your elbow
the salty spot where your hip is
my lip is I snuggle my pen and
don’t sweat the stain

Words know me and grow me and stretch
the truth of the t-r-u-t-h
of the b-o-d-y
b can oh-nly contain oh oh oh

d is the darkness
is the depth
is the deep

why y y why
a crest
a crescendo
Words, my tonic, my prince, my
oh my

“We assumed he did.” By Sasha at her kitchen table


Tuesday August 22, 2017
9:44pm
5 minutes
Equus
Peter Shaffer


We assumed that he’d be okay. We thought that he was invincible. He thought he was invincible. After a month of sitting beside him in the hospital, we start to lose sense of time. Days blur to hours and minutes slam weeks. Grief is thick in these buildings. We make bad, morose jokes. Toby starts smoking again. Ivy texts from Delaware but we can’t loop her, it’s impossible. You have to be here, I say, finally, on the phone in the gift shop. I pick up a stuffed bear and hug it.

“big comfy chairs” by Sasha at her desk


Monday August 21, 2017
4:36pm
5 minutes
From an email

She’s afraid of dropping the ball so much that she holds
it up above her head at all times and her arms are
achey and tired and the muscle is ripping away from the
bone She’s afraid that they’ll see her open
flayed on the sidewalk next to the black moons of gum
chewed seven years ago chewed by a lover she dreamed about once
She sucks on her hair now that she can
now that it’s grown up
now that it’s grown out
and the edges turn hard
She wonders how long it’s been since she cried
Too long, her mother would say
You need a good cry, she’d say
She’s afraid that if she’s found out to be who she really is
Everyone will play hot potato
with her heart
Passing it round and round the circle
until it’s too hot too fast too fuck oh my God
and she smashes on the asphalt and she’s gone

“keep this info handy” by Sasha on her couch


Sunday August 20, 2017
10:32pm
5 minutes
The Shaw pamphlet

“The fucking cheque bounced again, Henry!” Maude shouts from the bottom of the stairs. She can smell that Henry took a shower and used her shampoo again. “Asshole,” she mutters under her breath. He goes on and on about how he doesn’t like it when they smell the same and then he can’t resist the smell of coconut and vanilla. “Henry!” Maude doesn’t want to lose it, but he’s ignoring her and she hates that. She hears the door to his study crack open.

“What are you hollering about?” Henry pokes his head around the landing and she sees him in his towel, with his glasses low on his nose, and she remembers the man she married thirty three years ago.

“It depends how aware you are.” By Sasha in her bed


Saturday August 19, 2017
3:51pm
5 minutes
Lennon on Lennon
edited by Jeff Burger


He comes home raging
his eyes are round open
he’s not sure what the point is
in doing what he’s doing

I’m questioning everything
where I come from
where I’m going
what I do and what’s the meaning

Four thousand strong
gathered twelve blocks away
give or take
take or give

I nurse a neck that’s twisted
wrecked and tense
with warmth and lemon
with ice and tv

“Rabies is a fatal disease” by Sasha at her desk


Friday August 18, 2017
5:39pm
5 minutes
Health Tips for Tropical Travellers

I don’t mean to rouse the masses
Or scare the babies
But rabies oh rabies it’s a fatal disease
Met you on a Friday
You wore a red bandana
You said your name was Winston
Okay I just named you Winston
And you oh yeah you
You gave me rabies
I said I want to put a leash on you
You said that’s really kinky
I said maybe you’ll run away
You gave me side eye
Ohh baby you can give me rabies
Any day
I’ve been immunized
Your bites won’t kill me
Only your brown eyes will
Only your licks will
I love you Winston

“If you have troubles” by Sasha in the bath


Thursday August 17, 2017
11:06pm
5 minutes
from an e-flyer

It’s been a long time since I brought my notebook into the bathtub
It’s been a long time since I cried til my eyes bled
It’s been a long time since you told me you loved me
It’s been a long time

It’s been a long time since I took myself out for ice cream
It’s been a long time since I talked to my Mom
It’s been a long time since I laughed til I was red
It’s been a long long time

It’s been a long time since I knew I was certain
It’s been a long time since I sweat through my shirt
It’s been a long time since I saw a bald eagle
It’s been a long long long time

“Back then baby it didn’t seem so strange” by Sasha at her desk


Wednesday August 16, 2017
7:03pm
5 minutes
Dearly Departed
Shakey Graves


When Saturday came, we loaded up the truck with all the butter lettuce, quarts of berries, cherry tomatoes. We didn’t speak much. Tuned the radio to something like Johnny Cash and wiped the sleep from our eyes and set into town. Gram would watch Milo and Greta. We learned early that if they came to market we couldn’t sell as fast. Greta cried when we said that she could only come if Gram wanted to

“discussing something that’s totally wrong” by Sasha in her bed


Tuesday August 15, 2017
11:18pm
5 minutes
Overheard at JJ Bean

Whenever I hear the faint din of Family Guy it reminds me of my first boyfriend
how desperate I was to kiss and be kissed
I’d lied about my first and whether it had happened on a baseball diamond
or whether it had happened on a camping trip
Truth or Dare doesn’t count everyone knows that
Really really I promise I’m telling the truth
it happened in the basement of my mother’s house
my private secluded dank strange jungle
with a hammock in the corner and my own bathroom
every sixteen year olds dream
MY OWN BATHROOM
I had so many strange products in that fucking bathroom
from the drugstore
what is it with teenagers and drugstores
It was a good honest earnest real kiss

“others take longer than expected” by Sasha on her couch


Monday August 14, 2017
12:21am
5 minutes
From a greeting card

You take a blonde into a washroom stall and kiss her harder than you’ve ever kissed. You slur your “maybes” and “okay” and you take a taxi home, alone. You wonder how all these phone numbers got in your speed dial and who is Kendra and who is Sara and who is Tandy. You wonder about the Hardy Boys. Mike used to read to you when you were falling asleep. You liked that. You don’t read much anymore, other than the Internet. Is that still considered reading?

“big sister” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Sunday August 13, 2017
11:23pm
5 minutes
From Nannies On Call

Big sister takes my hand and leads me down to the river where Luna’s drinking river water. Pap says that humans can’t drink river water but Luna can. Something about her belly being strong. Something about the power of mutts. Big sister says that Pap is better pals with Luna than he is with Mama or us. Says that he understands beasts better than people. I don’t know. I think he’s okay. Big sister says watch out, when the moon’s full and Pap drinks a bit of boxed wine.

“packing slip” by Sasha at her desk


Saturday August 12, 2017
10:18pm
5 minutes
A receipt

I open my hands for you and
you put a packing slip there
you skip a packing note there
my hands are empty for you
and now not so empty
you
I open my hands and you
breathe fire I say
it’s okay
it’s okay
and I put that slip
in my back pocket
Never know when you’ve
got a list to write
Never know when you
might be struck by
inspiration

“Can you spare me for five minutes?” by Sasha at OPUS


Friday August 11, 2017
3:11pm
5 minutes
Serious Money
Caryl Churchill


Henry gets lost every time he goes to the Everglades. We shake our heads when he says he’s setting out because we want him to be safe, but there’s a little sparkle somewhere about the fact that he’s still adventuring. “Wonder if you’ll see any wildlife?” Tim says. Henry cocks his head and spreads jam on the other half of his sandwich. He’s always been a very good picnic packer.

“The waters here” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday August 19, 2017
1:12pm
5 minutes
The Lonely Planet Bali and Lombok

It hasn’t rained in ninety days. Pap checks off each one that passes by on the calendar beside his chair and we wait we wait we wait we wait. Nothing to do but wait. Gemma’s read all of Nancy Drew and I’ve got her knitting mittens for the winter. She’s almost done. These poor kids, they can’t go outside. Too hot. Too dry. Rusty goes, he can’t help himself, but he comes in coughing and wheezing and Pap looks to me like it’s my fault I didn’t chain him down.

“tremendous whooshing noise” by Sasha at Opus


Wednesday August 9, 2017
12:02pm
5 minutes
The Enormous Crocodile
Roald Dahl


My sister and I make bracelets out of embroidery thread and sell them to friends of our parents. We charge a dime or a quarter. Sometimes they overpay, a dollar or two and we gasp with the excitement of a financial transaction.

I put most things on my credit card now. I get air miles, so it feels like I’m getting more than just the thing I’m purchasing. Maybe a trip home to kiss my sister’s daughter. Maybe Hawaii in the rainy months.

“When there’s peace, it’s too vague” by Sasha on her living room floor


Tuesday August 8, 2017
9:46pm
5 minutes
The Balcony
Jean Genet


I want to impress you
I don’t want you to see my doing it
When there’s peace it’s too vague it’s too far away
Barcelona from Saskatoon
Yellowknife from Johannesburg
I wonder what you’re wearing now that you live south of
the Equator
I wonder if you still wear those aviators
cowboy boots
ripped jeans
I wonder if you’re still carving soap stone into mermaids
Catching babies as a hobby
Spinning wool
I want to impress you
even when you’re not here
even when we haven’t spoken in twelve years
my body floods

“you called me at 5:30, said you couldn’t sleep” by Sasha on her couch


Monday August 7, 2017
11:37pm
5 minutes
Overheard on the 99

you called me at 5:30, said you couldn’t sleep. i asked if you wanted to come over for a cuddle or something and you said that there was no way in hell you were leaving your apartment for mine. you had better fans. i asked if you wanted me to come over and you said that you didn’t feel comfortable with me walking at that hour. i’ll ride my bike. no, no, it’s okay. it wasn’t the first time. it won’t be the final time, unless i tell you to fuck off with this shit, i have a full-time job and i need my seven hours.

“When your music ends” by Sasha on her balcony


Sunday August 6, 2017
6:27pm
5 minutes
Spotify

Jonah’s got a case of the Monday’s and it’s not even noon. He asked Trev for a BJ to get the day started and Trev just looked at him like, “WUT?” They were out of eggs so Jonah couldn’t even have his “in it to win it breakfast”. Screw you, Monday.

Ever since he quit his job and started freelancing, Jonah tried his best to work from home for the first part of the day and then he went to Grump’s three blocks away. He likes the music they play. Nothing too heavy. He can’t work with anything too heavy playing

“The morning, happy thing” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Saturday August 5, 2017
1:12am
5 minutes
The Complete Poems of Emily Dickenson

The morning, happy thing
dancing puppy dogs in maple syrup
unending stream so coffee and cream
Happy thing you happy happy thing
Musn’t be very smart if you’re happy
right that dumb idiot riding at the
front of the bus talking to the driver
the driver doesn’t want to fucking talk
but talk talk talk is all you do
Must be nice
being happy
Get your head out of your ass happy happy
Ronald McDonald
The morning with your egg mcmuff toast toast
I’m not mad I’m just disappointed
Why aren’t you smiling