“the only identifier” by Julia in the floor of a hotel room

Wednesday August 7, 2019
10:33pm
5 minutes
Orange Socks
Kate LeDew

it is cold in here
I
I
I
am glad I brought a sweater
the people
will
b
e
coming home soon
I have identified the
pro
b
lem

it is me and my hugged wound
laying
together as if
ol
d
frien
ds

we are In sep er able

or so they say

they
they
they

it does not compute
spelling in this
lan
gua
ge

is
hard enough already
already hard
alredy enough

e nu f f

I
I
I
have stopped asking questions because

no

body

knows

any thing
anything
any things

“the only identifier” by Sasha at her desk

Wednesday August 7, 2019
10:24
5 minutes
Orange Socks
Kate LeDew

  1. Make a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich. Cut it in half, diagonally. Leave it on the plate for a few hours. You aren’t hungry. Haven’t been for almost two weeks. Funny how appetite becomes the barometer for feelings, at least in your family.

  2. Find the sandwich, only a bite taken. The contents have seeped into the bread. The bread it turning hard. Take another bite.

  3. Phone rings and you ignore it. You can’t bear to put something on your voice, the connective tissue to the truth. You would have to if you answered, no matter who it was, let alone Miranda.

  4. You open up the sandwich and run your finger through the jam. You lick your finger. You say a small prayer to the strawberry seeds.

“sucking everything in.” By Sasha at her desk

Tuesday August 6, 2019
9:02pm
5 minutes
Across This Body
Jeni De La O

she sets herself on fire
it’s not the first time
but she burns differently

now that there’s the most to lose

ashes fly to the sky
flickering fantasy
floating towards the opposite
she explodes into all the

pieces of possible truths
colours like feelings
smoke of spirit
roar of the breaking

betrayal is a red
mixed into the blood

as she burns she paints
herself in the shades of
the now the ones
she predicted but always
wanted to escape

the true things
the small things
the things that are clever
and vicious

unknown

now that she’s nothing
she has everything
now that she’s here
she sees herself

whole
for the first time

“sucking everything in.” by Julia at her desk

Tuesday August 6, 2019
6:50pm
5 minutes
Across This Body
Jeni De La O

I don’t know how many days I will write about time and
how many minutes

When i pour my coffee for the 3rd time you wait and
smile cause oh you see yourself in it

I never had addictions until i met you
I never smoked a thing until that night

And darlin’ I will wait for another puff
if it means you’re the one passing it to me

I don’t know how many days I will love this line
or the next one that inevitably follows

When i stumble on a phrase I like better than the feeling
it occupies inside of every swallow

I never had addictions until i met you
I never smoked a thing until that night

And darlin’ I will write this way till mornin’
Cause I’ve got the best obsession in front of me

I don’t know how many days I’ll write about time
and how many hours

When I dance for you after all the years of sucking in
you smile at my body of work and of beauty

I never had addictions until i met you
I never smoked a thing until that night

And darlin’ I will hold on to forever and again
if it means that you’re holding back to me

I never had addictions until i met you
and now you’re the one thing on my mind

“an overdose, the fire hall repainted red.” By Julia at her desk

Monday August 5, 2019
5:59pm
5 minutes
Orography
Alison Braid

It’s never as bad as it feels in the brain
Until the day that it is worse
And expectations of forever look like this:
Swollen eyes and spine shriveled
Everything pointing toward the floor
Oh Lord, is there anything lower?
The clock ticking bruises
The warning signs begin to dart around
as if they had been there the whole time
As if it were you alone responsible for the knowing
I do not give you anything that sounds like blame
You did not deserve this
You did not miss the signal

I have wanted to take back what I said because
I am angry now more than ever for you and I don’t
know how to be that when you might not need that
But it’s true and it is constant and
I want to go to battle for you
I am ready
I will bring my tiny-hearted arrows and I will
launch them at whatever target you give order to hit
I will hit each one because I have spent my life
practicing my aim and my arm is steady
You do not need to walk this alone even in the
moments after you think you have asked for too much

When the Phoenix rises from the ashes she takes
all of her sisters with her and forms a flock
of fire born sky-dwellers who can see as far
as this world may reach

“an overdose, the fire hall repainted red.” By Sasha at her desk

Monday August 5, 2019
10:42am
5 minutes
Orography
Alison Braid

I read you my writing
two poems
at the kitchen table
that’s grown seven feet
since this day last week

a kitchen table that sees
the pancakes and the salt
the chilli and the fights
the Scrabble and the worst

You meet me in the words
beyond the wrong and right
only by being present
but that’s enough for now

two poems
speaking the unspeakable
shrieking in their small stanzas
shaking ghosts from their pockets
sand from their ears

“Aida drank her father’s unsugared coffee” by Sasha in her bed

Sunday August 4, 2019
10:21pm
5 minutes
A Dull Yellow Presence
Mona’a Malik

Aida reaches across the table and takes a sip of her father’s unsugared coffee. It tastes like tar.

“What are you doing?” He’s back from the washroom, hands in his pockets, crease between his eyebrows deeper than when he left.

“I just wanted to – …”

“That’s for grown-ups.” He sits down and stacks his cutlery on his plate, putting the paper napkin, folded, on top.

“I’m sorry, Papa.” Aida gets that sinking feeling in her stomach and wonders when her mother will pick her up. Saturday morning breakfasts with her father were court ordered. No one checked with her.

“Aida drank her father’s unsugared coffee” by Julia laying

Sunday August 4, 2019
8:21pm
5 minutes
A Dull Yellow Presence
Mona’a Malik

Aida lays with her left eye in her palm, pulsing, pushing. Her father is across from her in his easy chair, perusing the daily flyers. That’s the only thing he enjoys reading. The last book he finished was in 2000. He doesn’t remember the title, but the year is easy to recall.

Aida doesn’t like to be gaurded, watched. She feels like her parents keep taking turns on “Aida Duty” and neither of them really want to do it. Aida clears her throat, a bit strained.

Her father leans over and passes her his cup. She takes a sip and shudders.

“retirement and investment savings” by Julia on her couch

Saturday August 3, 2019
9:34pm
5 minutes
From a piece of mail

It’s true what they say, the banks are out to get us.
Mine charges me for being self-employed by making me pay a fee every time I exceed 12 transactions in a month. I could look into options that don’t include throwing money away but this stuff scares me because it makes me feel stupid and being stupid is one of my major fears.
I wouldn’t be able to admit that to just anyone. I am afraid of feeling small and helpless and useless and dumb and this perpetuates the cycle. I let the banks get me. I let them keep me small. I have no plans for investments or retirement because my brain doesn’t know how to think any further into the future than the next word after this. Maybe that’s fear too, keeping me believing that.

“retirement and investment savings” by Sasha at her desk

Saturday August 3, 2019
11:28am
5 minutes
From a piece of mail

I worried about money until other things came on deck
things that take more breath and bones than bills do

and that is privilege in action right

Fuck
I’m sorry

I used to think by thirty-three there’d be retirement
and investment savings but
well

that’s just not the case
like so many cases are not the case
and so many cases are
case closed
case re-opened
“In this case I…”

what is the case is broken hearts

and packing tape
and all our stuff piling up in a corner of a room
where I both do and don’t want to be
where I do and don’t need to be

healing hearts
hearts in throats
little kid hearts hurting so bad
wanting to heal
wanting release

wanting to teach our girl that
love looks like being true
and being true looks like vulnerability
and vulnerability is power

hearts in the hands of all the earthly angels that love us

I circle my mind
a low flying gull
ride her tail feathers towards destruction
ride her wings towards hope

“she’s in a shoe store with her friends,” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Friday August 2, 2019
10:24pm
5 minutes
Some Notes Against the Burden of Representation
Rahat Kurd

she’s in a shoe store with her friends and she’s smiling and pointing at the shiny gold platforms and they roll their eyes because she won’t buy them and she won’t wear them but she tries them on to push it a bit to push her possibility at wildness at the person she maybe used to be and her friends tell her she should get them and two of them mean it and one of them doesn’t because that one is holding that she’s changed that they’re all changing and they took her out today because they didn’t want her to be alone with the beast in her belly moving through the motions of coffee and a boiled egg and replying to emails and cancelling subscriptions because they didn’t want her to be alone

“she’s in a shoe store with her friends,” by Julia at her desk

Friday August 2, 2019
9:42pm
5 minutes
Some Notes Against the Burden of Representation
Rahat Kurd

She’s waiting for her dad because on Saturdays her dad takes her to lunch.
He takes her to the food court and lets her pick: Chinese food, or New York Fries.
He’s sweet to her on these days, shows her off to his employees.
They talk about her hair, how it’s like his, how she looks just like him.
She’ll help him rearrange the shoes in the window after she wipes down the clear shelf.
She feels like she’s helping him. He’ll likely redo it after she leaves.
The faster the shoes get organized in the window, the faster he can take his break.
He is sweet to her on these days, doesn’t tell her how to do it better.

He throws his tie behind his shoulder and dives in to the burger, or the chicken balls.
He asks if she’s done any good shopping yet and she tells him about the earrings she bought; little ladybugs
She won’t remember what they talked about years from now but here in this moment she thinks she’ll never forget.
Next Saturday she should ask her friend if she wants to come, he says he’ll drive them.
Maybe they could catch a movie at the Cineplex Odeon in the afternoon.

“Redeemable exclusively at” by Julia on her bed

Thursday August 1, 2019
2:40pm
5 minutes
From a Salvation Army flyer

you can cash in here
give your nickles and dimes
for a better time
sure you can cash in here

i’ve got some grief i need to redeem, trade it in for
a bucket of your best excuses
mourn the loss of every baby i let die in the mines after i finally said they could be gold

i did what i was told, held their hands and plugged their noses, dunked their heads and laid out roses
the goodbye don’t come easy when it’s not your time to go

you can cash in here, get your bang for your buck, i’m the counter with the tear duct tango and you’re trying to find someone to dip

“Redeemable exclusively at” by Sasha at her desk

Thursday August 1, 2019
6:47pm
5 minutes
From a Salvation Army flyer

These redeemable features
the striving for authenticity
the hope for freedom
What more do we want?

The crest of the lip
holds sweat and tears
The heart holds
more space
and then no space
and then more space

My smell has changed in these days
turned raunchy and rough
I can’t stop sniffing myself
smelling my fear
animal that I am
animals that we are
How we build from a series
of fumblings
stumbling towards
something true

“we always found a way” by Sasha on her couch

Wednesday July 31, 2019
11:10pm
5 minutes
From a thank you card

This is you, body coiled and then crumpled
naked in pillows, the baby thrashing
an arm’s length away

We have always found a way back to how we tether,
how we teethe the truth, a bone
like the dinosaurs on display

You want so much

This is the heart within the heart,
a love that I didn’t know was possible,
the ache that grabs my throat

licks my cheek,
tells me to grovel and snarl,
thumbs protected by fingers,

protected by the willingness to pretend.
I stick sorry across your torso,
your back, your jaw

I want so much

I see myself through your eyes
and she’s a famished feral one,
governed by hunger

frozen by fear.
I stick sorry on the tip of my tongue,
lick my arms, legs, belly

Hold up one finger to you
A white flag.

“we always found a way” by Julia in a stairwell

Wednesday July 31, 2019
11:01pm
5 minutes
From a thank you card

you and me sunday driving
is the arriving and we have no where else to go

told me yourself you miss those open roads and those open throats where all that wants to say is said

where did the time go and why has it been so kind to us? Wrapping around our pinky fingers as a promise to always slow down when it counts

and when I thought I had more open doors in front of me to walk through than open roads to travel with you, we still found a way to try again

the heart is as beautiful as it is funny and we have seen so many faces of the same clock, so many different ticks tocking

with you with you with you
if this were a song it would be a deep bow

a thread holding us together strong enough to break to keep finding a sweetness in the fray

“Come visit me in Halifax soon!” By Julia on her couch

Tuesday July 30, 2019
8:58pm
5 minutes
From a thank you card

I remember visiting Halifax for the first time and I thought your parents’ place was right around the corner. Nope. It was a few hours away. There were way more mosquitoes. And I loved it. Not the mosquitoes-those bites swelled up as big as golf balls. But your family? Welcoming me with a huge pot of fresh mussels? I was in east coast heaven. I could have married you right then and there.

Your mom showed me photos of your playing with a guitar when you were so small and it melted my heart. I loved you even more seeing you with them. They loved you with the biggest love I’d ever seen.

When we went to see the whales, everyone said that each time on the boat they’d seen them. I didn’t see any whales and that was the only disappointing bit.

I will always remember your mom razzing me about being short, like an elf. I really hope she’s well. And your dad. I hope your sisters are great. And their kids. I don’t know how many there are now…

We were so young back then. We were so open to everything.

“Come visit me in Halifax soon!” By Sasha at her desk

Tuesday July 30, 2019
1:32pm
5 minutes
From a thank you card

Dear Becky,

Does anyone write letters anymore? It feels so old fashioned. I’m trying to use up this stationary my grandma gave me (RIP, aw Midge) before the move so thought I’d spend the afternoon catching up on correspondence. This is the first letter I’m writing. Things are okay here… I’m thinking a lot about white supremacy and performative allyship without actually putting in the real work. Social media posts and stuff but how most people don’t actually show up. I’m not talking about a rigidity in being PC or anything, just doing our part to dismantle the shit that’s gotta go! I remember when we used to talk about the micro-aggression racism we’d both experienced growing up in small towns. Those were fundamental steps in my work as a baby activist and I’m grateful to you for that! Running out of space so… How are you?! I miss you. Come visit me in Halifax soon! I think you’d really dig it here.

“no one would know me.” By Sasha at her desk

Monday July 29, 2019
10:42pm
5 minutes
The Landing
Marie Howe

I build a home for you
and you live in it
day after night after afternoon
adding your skin to the dust bunnies
adding your hair to the nests under the sink
adding your voice to the whispers
stored in the paint of the walls

I build a good home for you
for us
for two and then three
for the three of us
I keep the pantry stocked
and the floors swept
I keep the truth on the table
until we snuff out the candle
and say goodnight
I dream of a time before this
a time after this
I dream of a great undoing

A lighthouse fills my heart
dim tonight than ever before
I leave the light on
for you though
for myself
for the three of us
even in the crest of the tsunami

“no one would know me.” by Julia on A’s couch

Monday July 29, 2019
11:00pm
5 minutes
The Landing
Marie Howe

I am sitting by the tree, waiting for my real friends to come see what’s wrong. We all do this. I like the tree, I like this alone. The kind that turns into something soon. The kind that makes time feel like forever but in a good way. One of these moments they’ll all come running to me. What will I say? I’m feeling sad. I’m feeling left out. I got upset and didn’t know how to tell you. I want to play and have fun. I say nothing until someone comes. I don’t leave the tree until someone comes.

Sometimes nobody comes. Sometimes it’s an exercise in will power. In patience. In believing that everyone is better off without me. Better off since they didn’t have to tell me to my face. There’s no more room. There’s not enough space for you. This is when it feels like forever but in the bad way. The way the bell never rings, never saves me, the way the real friends never appear because they never existed.

“the name of being an outlaw” by Julia on A’s couch

Sunday July 28, 2019
12:42am
5 minutes
Mustang Man
Louis L’amour

So you rebelled when you were a kid, learned to step off the sauce cause it wasn’t allowed, then you got yourself carried home without remembering what you wished you could remember.

Guess it was hard for your parents who really wanted the best for you but maybe made it seem more desirable without meaning too. Reverse psychology. Right.

Guess it was hard for all of you.

So when they saved you, you felt like they were punishing you and when they punished you you felt like they were unloving you but they didn’t mean that either. They wanted you to know that you were loved so much that your injury is their injury.

And maybe it just didn’t come out that way in words or in actions because they didn’t know how to communicate it. Maybe they never questioned their love for you so they never thought you might question their love for you and need any reassurance.

Some of us don’t know what we don’t know.

I’m sure you felt afterwards that it was all fine. That you learned something.

They learned something too.

“the name of being an outlaw” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Sunday July 28, 2019
6:39pm
Mustang Man
Louis L’amour

I don’t take the Bible literally, do you? I haven’t been to Church in a long time, but I pick up the Book every now and then, when I’m on the road, in a hotel room or whatever. I don’t own a version myself, but I pick one up every now and then. And every time I do I think about how it’s a great thing, the Bible, but it’s been used in the name of so much bullshit through the ages that that takes away all the good stuff, all the real stuff, all the stuff we should really be heeding. It hits me, like, whether or not you even believe in God, it’s a good idea to treat your neighbour well, right? I believe in God, I think. I mean, that’s cracking into a big ol’ box of worms, but I do. I do.

“your ability to project charismatic body language” by Julia at A’s island

Saturday July 27, 2019
10:28pm
5 minutes
The Charisma Myth
Olivia Fox Cabane

You leave the house with your blonde hair rippling like ribbons of butter bounce bouncing along

I see your excitement in the red of your cheeks, nervous but ready and oh how you look the part

Wearing my shirt, girl it looks good on you, rocking those pants with the rips in the knees I am so damn pleased

I say cross this leg in front of the other, look down, okay, uncross, looking charming without looking

I’m staying up late so I can hear all about your date and what he whispered in your ear over dinner

Did you split the snacks like you said you would, did you order the Humming Bird with the Montenegro

Did I tell you you’re the best yet or did I spend all my time telling you that you’re enough and you’re alive

On the drive home I see those exclamation points and someone else asked how you were when you left

How you were feeling and I like that I’m the one who got to send back the report: perfetto, bellissima!!

“your ability to project charismatic body language” by Sasha at her desk

Saturday July 27, 2019
5:38pm
5 minutes
The Charisma Myth
Olivia Fox Cabane

You do not know self consciousness
Your face the pure expression of feeling
You see the floral blanket and the joy
ripples from top to bottom explodes
out your tiny fingertips

It was hot last night and our naked bodies
touched through each dream and breath
Crescent moon eyelashes the very thing
I didn’t know I’d always dreamed of
Sweetness here now curled against my belly
the same one I felt a year ago in those
first appleseed days

Three months of knowing you
separate from my body
although that’s hardly true
Three months of you being here with us
giving back so much more than I thought possible
Why did I think it was going to be so hard?

Walking home from tying up frayed loose ends
it was easier than I thought
barely an effort really
effortless in it’s grace
I said to myself
“Why was I so afraid?”
and the sun on the sweetgrass growing
flooded me with the truth of
letting go

“I’ll try to sneak across the border somewhere, somehow” by Julia on A’s couch

Friday July 26, 2019
12:29am
5 minutes
Summer Of My Amazing Luck
Miriam Toews

you’re on the other side of the country right now. Missing me, you say, needing me. I’m feeling it hard right now. I’m feeling you. Thank you for believing in my dreams even when you won’t get those 15 minutes back. You listen. You always listen.

I am writing so many things about you, yoy’d think we just fell in love for the first time this year. But I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve fallen in love with you. How many days are in a decade again? Somewhere around there.

Tonight I’ll find yet another bed to think of you in. I’ll meet you across the border of sleep and into the place we keep choosing. It’s nice there and it’s warm, and I know the breeze of you like the back of my hand. Even if I don’t see your face, I’ll know.

1234

“I’ll try to sneak across the border somewhere, somehow” by Sasha at her desk

Friday July 26, 2019
12:08pm
5 minutes
Summer Of My Amazing Luck
Miriam Toews

You’ve been sneaking across my borders since we first
touched eyelashes tangled hair and toes
the Landsdowne bus brake staccato stop and start

I don’t know as much about yours as you do about mine
Maybe you don’t have them or if you do you treat them
differently than I do

Three lines feels enough sandwich to understand
enough space to feel safe
enough enough to be thorough but also vague

Maybe that will be my epitaph

This border crossing is a mountain range
the craggy edges catch in my throat
a sob or a laugh or a pretend

I’m taken with the smell of vulnerability
can’t stop burrowing my nose in the armpit there
tracing the dust with my tongue

“I can’t handle this” by Julia in Baden

Thursday July 25, 2019
11:29pm
5 minutes
What Every Body Is Saying
Joe Navarrro

It’s the dreams, Bev, I’m telling you. I get paralyzed in my sleep cause of what I’m doing in my dream and then when I wake up, I can’t move for real.
Take today’s for example! I was napping, right, probably too late in the day for one to be honest, but I got myself into a deep sleep. And in the dream I’m floating 50 ft in the air on some circular device, like one of those snow dishes that you slide down a hill on? And it’s attached to this tiny tiny thread. But long-cause it’s above the ocean. Yeah. All water below and up there I’m having a picnic! Little basket and everything! But then all of a sudden the wind starts turning me upside down and back again at least 6 or 7 times. I am holding onto the ledge of the dish thing, right, holding on for dear life, Bev, cause this shit is unnatural! Then somehow we get down and I have no idea how it works, but we’re safe, and I’m thinking, I do not want to go up back there again. So Elliot gets off the device, right, cause she was up there with me in the dream, right and since she’s down, she’s not scared anymore. But then suddenly I get launched all the way back up!

“I can’t handle this” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Thursday July 25, 2019
10:10am
What Every Body Is Saying
Joe Navarro

Sometimes
when the sweat is trickling down
the nape of the neck
the back is tight from slouching
the heart is weary from all the love
all the stretching

These times
one might think
“I can’t handle this”
Too full
Too sticky
Too messy
Too unknown
Too much

This, too
I say in a moment of
surrender
in a light prism of
yes
This, too

“found the conversation a burden to listen to” by Julia in Baden

Wednesday July 24, 2019
11:29pm
5 minutes
Lonesome Dove
Larry McMurtry

Hurley wakes up early fries a couple of eggs

Shirley’s getting twirly cause she’s got her new legs

Izzy’s feeling dizzy with her head in her hands

Lizzy’s way too busy with those chaotic plans

Hurley’s loving Shirley when she twirls from her heart

Izzy’s missing Lizzy when she plans them apart

“found the conversation a burden to listen to” by Sasha in the car

Wednesday July 24, 2019
5:11pm
5 minutes
Lonesome Dove
Larry McMurtry

On the bus home from therapy. Why did I choose a therapist across the city? I’m sure there are good people close to where I live, but nope, I had to find the dude with the little round glasses and the greying beard two bus rides away. And now I love him and I trust him, and I know about his three sons and his dying mother, and that’s the most personal information I’ve ever gotten out of a therapist before so I’ll see him until one of us croaks.

These two people are talking like you talk in your kitchen after a few glasses of wine. They are riling each other up. One keeps saying, “YOLO, Cheryl! YO-LO!” and Cheryl keeps saying, “I know, but I’m scared!” and in a very quiet voice I whisper, “We all are, but we go about our business anyway.”

“It Helps To Ask” by Julia in A’s bed

Tuesday July 23, 2019
11:33pm
5 minutes
ECK Wisdom on Inner Guidance
Harold Klemp

A: For alone time?

B: Yeah, I have to ask.

A: Yourself?

B: Yeah. I have to check in.

A: With yourself…

B: Because my permission matters to me.

A: Oh, okay, it’s about your permission.

B: No, MY permission.

A: That’s what I just said.

B: But the emphasis was wrong.

A: Not how I intended it, the emphasis was correct for how I intended it.

B: But you weren’t getting the full scope of what I intended.

A: Okay, you know how you need your thing for you?

B: I… yes.

A: Do you see?

B: I… yes.

“It Helps To Ask” by Sasha at her desk

Tuesday July 23, 2019
5:32pm
ECK Wisdom on Inner Guidance
Harold Klemp

It helps to ask those
who have come before
how they did it
Not that we are all the same
or that what worked for her
will work for you
but

in asking something
moves in the gut
in the heart
in the glow
above the crown
something moves that’s
been longing

to move
to extend finger
and toe tips
creak of the back
tightness of the hip
move move
move
move
move dear body

in ways you didn’t think
to be possible or
possible for you

move towards the grace
of the opening

“a time lacking in truth and certainty” by Julia on B’s toilet

Monday July 22, 2019
10:59pm
5 minutes
From a quote by Louise Bogan

When we were young we spent time hiding from each other in the mornings so we wouldn’t have to endure the small talk that had become of us.

I admit I was the one avoiding you because you could see into my skin and I didn’t like how I was treating you because of that.

I have already apologized and so have you but when we weren’t walking quietly on the kitchen tile, we were occupying the misunderstandings in the hallway.

You there in your fed up to here stance, hurling hardball truth to my jaw, me there mouth agape. Shocking how well the time we bottled knew how to explode in our faces.

I didn’t have excuses for my behaviour but I gave you my reasons and you didn’t care. You weren’t having any of it because you had had enough.

“a time lacking in truth and certainty” by Sasha at her desk

Monday July 22, 2019
11:04am
5 minutes
From a quote by Louise Bogan

Drive up the mountain in an SUV and throw a cigarette butt
out the window and laugh at the irony of how things
tend to go Drink an iced coffee and throw the cup
out the window and then take a selfie
in front of the forest fire

hashtag world ending hashtag hot hot heat
hashtag fire hashtag smoke
hashtag do I look beautiful here
Is the light good

Instagram does not measure the rate
of destruction caused when tourists pose
at the site of Chernobyl
exposing butt cheeks and pink lipstick
How far will we fall
How deep will we go

I am not condemning my generation
I am saying that I am afraid
of the passion for followers
gurus of make up tutorials and false eyelashes
the disconnect from the
heartbeat

“beauty care products that deliver” by Sasha at her desk

Sunday July 21, 2018
9:31pm
5 minutes
Live-clean soap label

The older she gets the more she cares
about what she puts on her skin
it should be something you’d eat really
She curses the drugstore bullshit
of her teenage years
wonders about the lasting poison
in her pores probably gone now
Our cells regenerate completely
every seven years right
must be
long gone by now

Now she moisturizes with coconut oil
slathers herself in it after a bath
before bed and doesn’t mind if her
sheets get slippery
Smells like a tropical vacation

“beauty care products that deliver” by Julia in Baden

Sunday July 21, 2018
10:39pm
5 minutes
Live-clean soap label

You could go in there, Lamby, and ask them to test their luxury soaps and they’ll let you! You don’t even have to tell them you have sensitive skin! I think they hope you buy something, but mostly they don’t care at ALL.

I went in there last weekend and saw a soap that had raspberry seeds inside it. For a scrub. It was so pretty. I also saw a corn on the cob face toner. No seriously, Lamby, the toner was yellow. They told me how it worked but I was in such shock I didn’t retain any of it! It was expensive too. So I asked to try it and they let me and I don’t know how they do it but having it on my face just felt right.

Everybody who works there walks around wearing lip liner and cold heart. It’s very thrilling.

“Bishop Family Bees” by Julia in J and R’s attic

Saturday July 20, 2019
12:17am
5 minutes
Honey Child Apothecary

I know about growing bees
I know about spreading honey
I know about brushing a bee away
I know that bzzzzzz growing is the wrong word bzzzz
keeping
my
lips
sealed
don’t want to let out the wrong words
wrong words get me in trouble
wrong words get the bzzzz going and no one thinks it’s the buzz word that does the damage
if that’s too on the nose
I DON’T GIVE A SHIT
I’m done with the passiveness, the persistent preocupation of politeness
This is a family bizzzness
OKAY?

“Bishop Family Bees” by Sasha at her desk

Saturday July 20, 2019
12:02pm
5 minutes
Honey Child Apothecary

You and me
we raise bees in our backyard
only have a bit of space
a few concrete slabs
a tiny patch of grass
but it’s something I’ve always
wanted to do
and always feels closer
since we met grief at the dump

You build the hive out
of old shipping crates
scored on Craigslist
for free
I find second hand bee suits
for us
turns out more people
want to raise bees
than you think
but a lot of things can go wrong
and it’s hard work

I dream about being
covered in honey
arms-length of sticky gold
breaking into the comb
a bear in summer

“cleared brush from the trail” by Julia on the UP

Friday July 19, 2019
11:13pm
5 minutes
Simple Abundance
Sarah Ban Breathnach

It’s in the dream if you need a reference: remember I told you

how unsteady I was and how lipstick ready you were and how you waited

how you cleared the brush from the trail even though the work

was hard and you found thorns in your fingertips

This whole movie, magic, promise unfolded in front of me guided by

the pulse of a metronome keeping time for us since we had suspended

all knowings in the space between us and when I emerged from the

sea wrestling a shark 10 times my size I saw you there plugging in the

blender on the beach (in dreams)
to feed me breakfast, to combine

tastes in my mouth and prove that
you knew what you were doing and

have been waiting for me there or
here or wherever this catapult has flung me

“cleared brush from the trail” by Sasha at her desk

Friday July 19, 2019
1:12pm
5 minutes
Simple Abundance
Sarah Ban Breathnach

It starts as me walking Vinny when Janice, my neighbour, works long hours. She does lighting for films. “I’m happy to,” I say, when Janice blushes and apologizes for how often she’s calling. She doesn’t know that my time with Vinny is the highlight of my day. He looks me right in the eyes and smiles, I swear. I buy him a brush and brush his thick coat when it gets warm. He pants and drools on my leg and I collect the big puffs of his hair. He licks my cheek. We walk the trails close to our building, and I sometimes clear brush or pick up other people’s dog shit. Civic responsibility, I suppose.

“She heard a deeper vibration” by Julia on D’s couch

Thursday July 18, 2019
10:05pm
5 minutes
From a quote by Willa Cather

the windows keep banging back and forth or more the wind is filling

there is a lawn bowling party for the ages happening below me and every time someone whoops and hollers the doors thump I think it’s sounds like this that make a person really feel alone and almost intruded on

Its an almost aloneness then, deep in the vibration of obligation and commitment

It’s the one that rattles the creaks in the floor back to life after much deliberating

The music is finally quiet now because someone has won

I kept thinking about the wind and how it is aching me but they seemed to be able to enjoy themselves over the noise

The music might have been louder to account for Vancouver’s inconsistencies and here I am wishing I wore pants this evening

“She heard a deeper vibration” by Sasha at her desk

Thursday July 18, 2019
10:50am
5 minutes
From a quote by Willa Cather

She sits on the edge of my bed
her body different than ever
but this isn’t about her body
for once
this is about her transformation
not that body and transformation are mutually exclusive
just that too much attention has been paid to form
and now it’s about something formless
more important

She’s wearing a burnt caramel
three quarter sleeved shirt
it’s her colour
when I see this colour in the wild it reminds me of her
She’s talking about gratitude
like it’s her new guru
like it’s saving her life
and it is

Shrouded in white
glowing aura of wisdom and wreckage
gratitude leads her back
to the place that broke her
heart
the first time round

“The vast majority of people don’t want to do anything physical” by Sasha in her bed

Wednesday July 17, 2019
10:36pm
5 minutes
Overhead on the 4

The vast majority of people don’t want to do anything physical. They just want to talk, or bitch, or cry, or… you get the picture. It’s nothing like I thought it would be, when I first got into it. I mean, I’ve given my fair share of hand jobs, don’t get me wrong, but, it really isn’t about that. It’s about connection, being heard, knowing that someone is there for you and only for you, and isn’t going to ask for anything in return. It’s cheaper than therapy! Ha ha ha… Am I doing this right? Is this the kind of thing you’re after? I’m trying to be myself but with the camera and everything… I don’t know. It’s hard to relax. I’ve only fallen in love once on the job and that was with Rufus, who died last November.

“The vast majority of people don’t want to do anything physical” by Julia on the 4

Wednesday July 17, 2019
5:16pm
5 minutes
Overhead on the 4

People this and people that and man I’m with you but then again no I am not

I was with you a year ago
Everything I was a year ago was with you

I wanted to bitch and moan about anything I could wrap my tongue around

I wanted to hate everyone and everything because that made it easier to accept that I wasn’t going to be perfect either

The opposite, really

I wasn’t willing to accept myself in any shape or form so who got my shit talking?

The girl in the alley with her shorts riding her butt crack all the way to next Thursday

The guy bringing his yippy dog into the glasses shoppe and refusing to remove him

The baby crying on the plane

I don’t feel good about that last one but it’s the truth, alright, and that’s something worth clinging too

Nobody can drive
Nobody listens
Nobody cares about their bodies these days
All generalization and no examination
All avoidance and no allowance
All them them them against me me me

But I was against me by being against them

These are things I’ve learned

“shoved me into the bathroom” by Sasha in her bed

Tuesday July 16, 2019
7:52pm
5 minutes
A Head Full OF Ghosts
Paul Tremblay

Hands around my hips
pushing me towards the open door
Is this the life
I always dreamed of?
Molson on my breath
and All Dressed chips
I wish I’d eaten something
better

We’re up against the sink
graffiti on the walls
Is this all there is?

“Why aren’t you into this?”
Who are you?
“Shit, I’m sorry…”
Down on my knees but he
pulls me up and back
and mouths and breath
and eyes and my mother
used to say that I had
a strange nose it didn’t
come from either lineage
it is all my own

Someone flushes in the
other bathroom
We laugh

“What’s your name?”

“shoved me into the bathroom” by Julia at her desk

Tuesday July 16, 2019
6:28pm
5 minutes
A Head Full OF Ghosts
Paul Tremblay

I am not going to tell you the details.
You don’t–you wouldn’t–God, stop trying
to see into me. You wouldn’t get it.
Or Me, capital M, Me. I am not what you
thought I was. I’m better, if I’m being
honest and you wouldn’t know honesty either
because you have not once told yourself
the truth. Not since we met, not since
you moved away and came back three days
later because it “wasn’t what you thought
it would be”, not since all the sadness
you went through. I’m sorry you went
through anything at to being with and all
I wanted was to be there for you so you
could talk about it but it took you 3 years
to talk about it and–I mean–I would
have gotten it. I would have gotten You.
That’s in my blood, that’s my design,
that’s who I was trying to be, and you
decided I was something else. Something
you couldn’t bear to look at because
you knew I knew what I knew about you.
I want to tell you everything and I think
that’s the straw. That’s the stupid fucking
straw. I would have let you see into me
then and I wouldn’t have thought twice
about it, but you–now that we’re–this?
I can’t even say what we are because
it hurts too damn much. Now I don’t know
how to be around you at all.

“I do love his quips.” By Sasha in her bed

Monday July 15, 2019
10:14pm
5 minutes
A Working Theory Of Love
Scott Hutchins

I love the sound of his voice when he wakes
dreams caught in bubbles
clouds pooling in the corner of his eyes
focusing on my upper lip
dewy and rising into
smile

I do the dishes while he showers
and then we eat granola and cherries
these small duets of spoons
to lips the birds calling
us towards the trees

I think that I used to know what I wanted
but now that I have something like it
I’m not sure what wanting is
wanting what I’ve got
what then

“I do love his quips.” By Julia on her couch

Monday July 15, 2019
10:05pm
5 minutes
A Working Theory Of Love
Scott Hutchins

Réal makes dinner
for June at 9:30pm
It is too late to eat
but he says it’s
because he’s
European and it’s
true but also a bit
of a challenge
June used to eat
at 5pm before Réal
walked into her life
wearing an apron
and a smart watch
He says the best
things happen at
night and to him
that means sex
and food and wine
and massage
June likes all of
those things so
she is happy to
have them even if
she still hasn’t
gotten to bed
before midnight
since she met
Réal two months
ago

“special pings” by Julia on her patio

Sunday July 14, 2019
6:50pm
5 minutes
Tinnitus
Emily Osborne

High as a kite and no plans of coming down
Down is the place where all the dirt lives
The down and dirty, the hole, the pit
I’m going to fly high right over this town
Town is a place where all the small people
get together and wage wars against any one
who seems like they have finally learned to
love themselves

They don’t know anything about us
They don’t know anything about us

And oh what a war it already was, the lonely
people all huddled together with their ideas
and their weapons because the truth feels like
too much to fight
Oh the light, that glittering thing illuminating
all the inside from the bottom of the barrel
sending them a mirror to see themselves clearer

High as a kite and it could be on life itself
or life alone and you would never even know
think it’s a strain or a pill or a potted plant
a cheap kind of thrill that leaves the seeking
emptier than when they started

They don’t know anything about us
They don’t know anything about us

They could come if they wanted to but they don’t

They don’t know anything about us

“special pings” by Sasha at her desk

Sunday, July 14, 2019
2:38pm
5 minutes
Tinnitus
Emily Osborne

We eat spaghetti noodles with butter, basil and parmesan cheese. You crack on pepper and sprinkle red pepper flakes. I’m glad you’re not one of those people who doesn’t eat things, like cheese or whatever. I’m sick of those people. I made an arugula salad (with toasted pine nuts, dried cranberries and a little bit of shaved carrots). We’re sat at your sister’s dining room table. You’re dog-sitting Elizabeth, the Great Dane. Your sister recently got divorced and is hiking in Italy with one of the cousins. “Good for her,” you say, rolling your eyes but smiling. We eat in silence for a while, really savouring everything. You pour us each a bit more Sangiovese.

“your teeth glint” by Julia on her patio

Saturday July 13, 2019
10:16pm
5 minutes
Next Time
Lucy Yang

In the moonlight I can see
your perfect teeth aglow
like chicklets

your perfect lips hold your chicklet teeth and you can do no wrong

I won’t tell you the story of my teeth and how the braces ruined everythig

this is about you and that million dollar smile that didn’t require any help

It’s dark but it is you and the moon that I can follow so I don’t hit a tree

You’re the one guiding me forward without knowing how powerful your mouth is

I don’t tell you about my teeth because surely they didn’t save any lives

Not the kind that get punched out by troubled kids or smashed by a moving car

“your teeth glint” by Sasha at her desk

Saturday, July 13, 2019
10:51am
5 minutes
Next Time
Lucy Yang

Your teeth glint
refraction of streetlamp
and truth
Your mouth is bigger than ever
fizzing future
foaming present
shhhhh past

It’s July and it’s not as warm
as we’re used to this time of year
The only smoke is coming from
the change
the fizzing foaming shhhh-ing
At least for now
We’re lucky
I suppose

Keep reminding myself of that

I wake sweaty from a dream
baby wiggling for my breast
sighing in her sleep

Someone left their kid
in the hot car and they died

Water is the only thing
that brings me comfort in this
strange and stinking desert

Tears
Showers
Room temperature from the jug
on the counter

“Forced Kate to go to karaoke” by Julia on L’s couch

Friday July 12, 2019
11:06pm
5 minutes
From www.grubstreet.com 

Kate doesn’t want to sing so she stays quiet
This is her usual approach

inside she knows it is because she just isn’t brave enough to try but
no one else has to know

she feigned being sick at Brett’s birthday party when Alistair suggested they go to karaoke after everyone had already gathered for dinner at Bar Nuovo

she also uses her phone as a distraction whenever possible: texts, pretend phone calls, “emergencies” or better known as “friends in crisis”

“Forced Kate to go to karaoke” by Sasha at her desk

Friday, July 12, 2019
7:04pm
5 minutes
From http://www.grubstreet.com

Rebecca and Val force me to go to karaoke and then once we are there they find two guys at the bar and oops “there’s just two of them sorrrrry!” and they ditch me. I’m aware that everyone else has friend groups that they are with, and people are loving it, I mean really loving it, screaming and shouting and having the best time of their lives. The only other person who seems to be on their own is the karaoke woman, Misty. She keeps winking at me, and at first I can’t imagine that she’s looking at me but she is, it’s a one hundred percent thing.

“contact the storage directly” by Julia at her desk

Thursday, July 11, 2019
4:32pm
5 minutes
From the Secure Storage website

In my dream you were there as if
it hadn’t been 4 years of silence
When our other friends left the room
I looked at you, still there, shrugging
Was this night more awkward because you
and I haven’t talked anything out yet?
You wait to answer because the answer
is yes but you are there waiting for me
I didn’t know if you wanted to talk…
And now it is my turn to wait, to ask
myself, floating above my body if, maybe,
I do

Things are said but mostly not and
by the end of the scene we are hugging
deeply and I have said I love you again
and you have cried and said I love you back

You didn’t look the same and your calm
was foreign to me from what I remember and
yet I knew it was you there, wondering if
anything is possible the way they say it is

I gave you my answer and then I woke up,
glad that in the dream, after drawing the
card of Mercy, I could see what that might
look like even if no real action
had yet been taken

“contact the storage directly” by Sasha at her desk

Thursday, July 11, 2019
10:14am
5 minutes
From the Secure Storage website

I wonder if a time will come when
we do away with all the past hurt
stored in boxes in the closet
stacked one on top of the other
amidst the cleaning stuff and the
cans of black beans and chickpeas
paprika from Hungary
oats in a paper bag

I wonder when you will not be tight
and I will not be sorry

what will be between us then
the lightness and dust of these corners
a decade of daisy chain evolution
some flowers losing their bright
some gaining new growth
measured in commas and almost finished
stories measured in scratches
measured in letting go

I wonder what will come of this
and where you’ll put your righteousness down
what will be born of the true new

who will you allow me to be
in your paper doll cut out clothes
of not quite enough
torn at the places where you
stick them to my body
pin the tail on the woman
doing her best

“shattered in a thousand pieces” by Julia on the 4

Wednesday, July 10, 2019
5:23pm
Sing to the Moon
Laura Mvula

I am not, if you thought maybe I might be. I think you think I already checked out, but I hadn’t.
I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Saying the wrong thing has resulted in lashings before. Still have the scar of where you wielded the silent treatment.

I don’t have anger now and before if it seemed it, that was hurt wearing a little mask. A Little armour.

I knew you were done but I didn’t know it would come like this. I have an intuition about you and that might be because it’s been years, or because I’m listening to what you don’t say. You might be surprised to learn of how much I’m capable of. Change is the first thing. I’m glad you’ve come around to that.

“shattered in a thousand pieces” by Sasha at her desk

Wednesday, July 10, 2019
4:24pm
Sing to the Moon
Laura Mvula

little tear little breath
little hurt little death
little heart little break
little give little take
little win little lose
little scar little bruise
little fear little hope
little raft little rope
little yes little no
little maybe little so
little story little poem
little grief little home
little moon little sun
little lesson little won
little dance little still
little call little kill
little blood little bone
little laugh little moan
little piece little whole
little part little role

“Taking a trip?” By Julia on her couch

Tuesday July 9, 2019
8:55pm
5 minutes
From a TD Bank envelope

some days I don’t have the space to dream about the future.
I try to be here and now and in it all very deeply.
some days I come home and you’ve been planning your next trip. you want me to join you but you also want to spend time with yourself.
how will I know what I want to do in october when I don’t even know what I will want to wear tomorrow?

you tell me we could leave for a month and then soon after I consider it you say 5 weeks. That’s close to a month but it’s also more. first you say we could fly into Hong Kong but you don’t know if that’s the best route.
I want to say you’ve already convinced me with your argument about our age. We’re not getting any younger, but we can still be as young as we are.

and still, I tell you to ask me again in the morning.

“Taking a trip?” By Sasha at her desk

Tuesday July 9, 2019
12:02pm
5 minutes
From a TD Bank envelope

We talk three years in the future
a new language buried in our cheeks of
grandparents and long-haul flight snacks

We make promises that we know we can’t keep
but that’s what we all do right
that’s how we fool ourselves into the future
tumbling over and under
singing James Brown
singing lullabies

I’m always singing this song to you
especially on rainy days when the trying
gets tried and there’s nothing but
the birds on the balcony
trying to rustle up a seed
from the empty feeder

“Fall in love” by Sasha at her desk

Monday July 8, 2019
7:50pm
5 minutes
From a Bard on the Beach flyer\

Round the clock sweetness
like caramel and eyelash kisses
I’ve never known a love like this

The floorboards teach me
about lightness on my feet
and the sacred offering of sleep and milk

It’s not like things are perfect
but they are precious and the laughter
of these days is like none other

I give you everything I’ve got
and you give me your trust
tender
greens growing in the garden

“Fall in love” by Julia at her desk

Monday July 8, 2019
6:37pm
5 minutes
From a Bard on the Beach flyer\

He’s in this blue t-shirt with a little pocket
the kind of blue a leading man would wear
the kind of leading man who makes friends with
the kind of guy preparing a poke bowl on his first day

He’s beautiful
I mean really beautiful
This eyebrow that he has, man oh man
with the scar he got from running into
the corner of a table before his brother
was born, man
I’m a goner

I love that he laughs at his own arms
for no reason, and why, who cares,
let’s laugh like that until forever

He is getting softer by the minute
and growing smarter by the day
I am seeing clearly these months and
trust me it is good and it is good

I wish you asked about him
I wish it hasn’t been a year and a half
since you said his name out loud to me
as if he wasn’t the biggest part of
my body
As if he wasn’t the one giving me
new life when I thought a day was
like any other day

He doesn’t become less good because
you don’t say it
I want you to know that
He becomes more, I think
He is always becoming more

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” By Julia on the 99

Sunday July 7, 2019
5:06pm
5 minutes
Philippians 4:13

I can ask for what I’m worth
I can believe in what I’m worth
impact
impact
remember how I’ve changed
changed the energy in the room
changed the room
impact
after the fact
during, before
I’m doing what I came here for
connect to the guts
connect to the love
lead heart first and
fall at the feet of a
stranger saying
you are enough
you are more
and I am you too
I am the same
the might is gold
the light is green
I’m ths dreamiest motherfucker you’ve
ever seen
I’m the way things were
but not the way they used
to be
and I’ve got packets of
promise and hope for free
I can believe that I am good
I can ask for what I need
I can push boundaries I’ve set up if they’re no longer serving me
I’m the anthem I sing
I’m the naked floor dance
let them know I own
every last steady stance

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” By Sasha at her desk

Sunday July 7, 2019
12:15pm
5 minutes
Philippians 4:13

Oh my God! Hey! How’s it going?!

I’m glad that you’re happy. Really I am. I mean, that’s what I always wanted for you, I guess I’m just not really happy about what you being happy means for me. Does that even make sense? Shit, I’m rambling… how are you? I guess I should ask that, right? It’s been like, almost a year, right? Wow. TIME. Haha.

Good. Good. I’m glad to hear that. I guess.

Yeah, it’s been a weird time, to be honest. I finally got a dog! Her name is Carp. She’s a mutt. You’d love her. I love her. I mean…

I’m in therapy. How fucking typical… “I finally got a dog and I’m finally in therapy!” It’s good though. My therapist wears these glasses with different shapes, like, the left one is round and the right one is square. She’s a badass.

“A federal statutory holiday” by Julia on B and W’s couch

Saturday July 6, 2019
10:54pm
5 minutes
From a Wikipedia page re: Canada day

It’s hard to take the day off much less the whole summer.
SoMe
One
Told me that we need to take breaks
Just like the people who work the same hours every week or the ones who go to offices or places of employment outside their brains

This is a foreign concept to me:
I haven’t known the value of a weekend since I was in high school
It feels like every day there is something that needs doing
Especially if no one else is checking to see if it’s done or not
There is no paycheque on a Monday or a Sunday if I am busy sleeping in

This year I am trying-I mean embracing -summer and all its charms
The sunshine, the beach, the cycling, the road, the long walks, the long calls, the patio, the music, the playing, the throwing, the catching, the eating, the laying

I am and I am not because it takes a while to relax and when the relaxing comes it feels like a trick to knock me off my game and stay off

But the folding the laundry, the putting away the clothes, the reorganizing the closets is just as much me as the writing is; as the making
It is just as much me to walk around my house without bottoms as the me who puts on a bra and faces the edge of the street

“A federal statutory holiday” by Sasha at her desk

Saturday July 6, 2019
7:51pm
5 minutes
From a Wikipedia page re: Canada day

Mona is grateful for Canada Day because it means time and a half. She doesn’t know about colonization or the traumatizing effects of fireworks on refugees from countries where there’s war. She’s ignorant to the questionable politics. She doesn’t even know how much she likes it like that. Mona stocks tampons and pads, adult diapers and lube. She wishes she could listen to music, her own music not the bullshit they play in the store, but she makes due.

“Hey Mona, how’s it goin’?” Says Jeremiah. Jeremi-ahhhh.

“Hey…” She’s holding a box of ribbed Trojans.

“Are you going down to the lake for fireworks tonight?” He looks at his high tops.

“I don’t know…” She touches her braid.

“the stuff where the composition has a seduction to it” by Julia at her desk

Friday July 5, 2019
7:47pm
5 minutes
From a quote by Jeff Buckley

start with the eyebrow hair, gingerly plucked
by thumb and forefinger from their home there
above the eyes and do not look in the mirror

this will be your first mistake, but darling,
what is life, if not blindly ripping hairs
from your face when you begin to drift away

Write your memoir in the morning, and don’t
worry about hurting the feelings of your
loved ones, they will never read it because
you will never finish it

you will be enchanted by the possibility of all
things but your ground level conscientiousness
will prevent you from getting anything done
and you will want to blame your personality
type or your mother and both will be excuses

start with the melody, floating softly above
your cheek bones and open your mouth to catch
the drops of an almost song on the tip of your
tongue
it will feel good until it dissolves there

“the stuff where the composition has a seduction to it” by Sasha at her desk

Friday July 5, 2019
5:05pm
5 minutes
From a quote by Jeff Buckley

I used to tempt fate by riding my blue
bike with no helmet to houses uphill
where I would undress faster than I could
say “yes” or “no”

The stuff that hope is made of
caught between my fingers
the world thick with temptation
sticky with seduction

I would slip my phone number
written on receipts
in back pockets of men
who smelled like summer
who smelled like Brazil
who smelled like drumming

“You know how advice is.” by Sasha at her desk

Thursday July 4, 2019
6:52pm
5 minutes
From a quote by John Steinbeck

People tell you that it’s going to be hard (true)
and that you won’t sleep for years (not true)
that you won’t know your face in the way that
you once did (maybe)

People tell you that it’s like your heart
is forever outside your body (true)
and that suddenly the world looks different (true)
and that you won’t know your lover like
you once did (true)

People tell you that the time flies (maybe)
and that your body doesn’t feel like your own (not true)
and that you won’t know your heart
like you once did (not true)

“Arrow Lakes Hospitals Auxiliary Thrift Shop” by Julia at the studio

Wednesday July 3, 2019
4:39pm
5 minutes
From a sign in Nakusp, BC

I was dying to go in. I always am. You
on the other hand would be happy to drive
by the little spots and comment on how
quaint they look from the driver seat.
That is the problem with riding shotgun.

And what if there is a cute lapel pin?
Ever thought of that? How cute a lapel
would be with a pin of a tiny mountain
mammal? Or a reptile if you’re freaky,
and I know you are. Remember the reptile
museum we used to drive by? All those
exclamation points on the sign. Who has
that many exclamation points about
reptiles? The freaky ones, that’s who.
As we’d pass, I would shout out
REPTILES!!! and you repeat REPTILES!!!!
and everyone, both you and me, would
laugh because it was clear how many
exclamation points we were each using.

Maybe on the way back, you would say,
and I would know that by then it meant
we are just going to keep driving without
stopping and if we see something we like
or I like, I will have to be satisfied with
shouting it out to you. HORSES! I’ll say,
and HORSES!! you’ll repeat with an extra
exclamation point but we won’t pull over
to pet them.

“Arrow Lakes Hospitals Auxiliary Thrift Shop” by Sasha at her desk

Wednesday July 3, 2019
2:13pm
5 minutes
From a sign in Nakusp, BC

You are the new barometer of vibrations
whether I will or will not go
into a certain thrift shop
have a certain person over
eat a certain cured meat

You are the new teller of fortunes
staring into the magic crystal
your eyes changing colour
with the intentions of the hearts
in the room

You are the new best thing
in the city the place I always
want to be even when I don’t

“The next full moon will be on July 16.” By Sasha at her desk

Tuesday July 2, 2019
12:08pm
5 minutes
moongiant.com

you are a moon daughter
moon sister birth and born and
heaven is here even in
the green earth
bursting red
clay is cracking
hand pies made of ancestor
bones and we get along
with the yellow of
daisy paint on our cheeks
and church in the morning
lighting the candles at sundown
trouble is the lightning
strike cross the picket line
of the dirty rhymes and the
forgetfulness of February

be strong i say to the
nightmare frozen in my throat
tattooing brave on my tongue
before i speak

“The next full moon will be on July 16.” by Julia at her desk

Tuesday July 2, 2019
10:02am
5 minutes
moongiant.com

I have this big hope that one night
when I look up at the moon I will see
her smiling into me and I will know
that yes, this, here and now, is right

It’s a big reach because these days I
want to see her so bad that it hasn’t
happened except that one night on Bowen
Island when she woke me up from my dream
to pulse my whole life into a frenzy

When you look for something doesn’t it
always do that funny thing of eluding you?
Something like happiness in the shape of a
bird, or a butterfly, landing on your shoulder
then flying away before you can get a good look?

I am not asking for a miracle but for the
acceptance of whatever shape this readiness
will take when it presents itself to me:
a heart, sure, a vintage plastic cup with
all the right stripes of summer…

I will take it like birdsong, here for a
minute and then gone again, waiting until
the night is ripe for another talking moon
full of light and wisdom and knowing

“you need to do better, Kev.” By Sasha at her desk

Monday July 1, 2019
6:50pm
5 minutes
From an instagram story

Kev keeps bringing me chocolates and I’ve told him not to a million times and he just keeps doing it and I don’t know what to even say anymore. I’ve asked him nicely, like, “Hey, I know you are trying to do something sweet and I appreciate you for thinking of me and bringing me a gift but please stop bringing me chocolate.” I’ve laid down the law, “Kev, I’ve told you before, do not bring me chocolate or anything sugary!” I’ve even tried to be really honest, “I do not have a healthy relationship with these things and having them around isn’t good for me! You need to do better, Kev!” But then, he comes to visit last weekend and what does he arrive with? A big ass box of Purdy’s. ARGH!

“you need to do better, Kev.” By Julia in her bed

Monday July 1, 2019
12:10pm
5 minutes
From an instagram story

I am laying here a bit weak and helpless from the bleeding. It’s the first of the month and my period has arrived. Happy Canada Day. Red and white for me too. Wonderful.
The rumbling was loud and I thought by now I’d be staring up into the clear blue sky, but it would be too loud for everyone.
Meaning it would feel too loud to be around anyone.
A faint whisper of “you need to do better than this.”

The hot water bottle on my pelvis and sometimes on my upper right quadrant (a rib is starting to speak up now too, wants its turn) is also red. Look at the patriotism.

But I am grateful I didn’t feel this way yesterday while we were in a car for the last leg of our trip, wincing through every sparkling river, every endless mountain. My body is quiet until it is not. Now it is loud, as I mentioned, and I am here listening as it repeats the same story on a low hum.

“‘Gimme a whiskey’” by Julia on her patio

Sunday June 30, 2019
7:35pm
Fallon
Louis L’amour

Summer in my skin like the Mediterranean is whispering my name
Olive oil drenched and happy
Sun kissed and laughing

Whiskey on my lips the way
the good lord intended
Sweet rope and burn down my throat where the heat knows its home
I’m not coughing
I’m not sad

Gimme a shot and I’ll dance you moonlight, open my mouth wide
and I’ll house the whole sky
Use the Big Dipper to swallow the Milky Way and we’ll be living this
easy until the end of it
Whenever it comes
The second hand singing the chorus with the wind

“‘Gimme a whiskey’” by Sasha at her desk

Sunday June 30, 2019
5:56pm
Fallon
Louis L’amour

Your shoulders square. You wish that you could call someone but your phone is dead. You aren’t sure where your charger is, or if you even have a charger anymore. You’ve been using Liz’s charger. You close your eyes and imagine going to the freezer and putting ice in a glass. You imagine that you remembered to refill the ice tray. You imagine going to the cabinet above the fridge, just enough out of reach, and pulling down the bottle of Maker’s. You imagine pouring half a glass and drinking it. Not fast. Not slow. Not interrupted. Not wrong.

“Little wallet multicolour has zip” by Sasha in her chair

Saturday June 29, 2019
12:03pm
5 minutes
from and old text from my dad

You should see me – bouncing on a big blue ball, in a blue dress, my two month old blue-eyed daughter wrapped to my body, her little breath rising and falling against my breath rising and falling. We breathe together, her and I, did for ten months and still do now that she’s out. The soundtrack of sawing, as usual. The house across the street has been under construction since we moved in two years ago. Or was it three years ago? I don’t have a good memory for years. I do have a good memory for feelings.

This is me getting my fingers back in shape, my wordsmith tools sharpened. It’s been a long time… Why do I leave you, dearest and most loyal friend? I need you, but I leave you. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. Maybe that explains something.

“Llttle wallet multicolour has zip” by Julia in Kettle Valley

Saturday June 29, 2019
7:01am
5 minutes
from and old text from my dad

I look for this bag and you are Ocean far telling me there’s something in it for me
I look for this bag
What bag
I took this bag Out
I took another
I put the bag Away
I shelved the other
There is nothing new and you are Ocean away telling me
You are telling me it’s there and did I find it?
I am worried it’s money
I know it’s money and I’m worried because you snuck it in there
Where?
Where did you sneak it?
It, still a surprise
In the Bag, you say
Front Pocket
It’s been days and do I always take out my things and put them away without looking?
Wouldn’t it catch my eye?
Tell me where to find it again, I say
Ocean away, you say
Llttle wallet multicolour has zip
Little wallet
Must be money
I have no multicolour wallet but
You call it a wallet because I
had some money in there
Just in there
Because I do that
If you had looked in my book
you might have put it there too

“Yes, that’s what you’ve told me to do.” By Julia in Kettle Valley

Friday June 28, 2019
5:35pm
5 minutes
Dipped from a dream

I wait by the foot of the stairs because I hear your steps, softly
Beyond another life and yet
you do not make your way down
the hall and down to me
and maybe this is the last time I will think quietly that you might
I have been carrying you gently from year to year and not much has changed
Or if substantial is a measurement then nothing has
I wish to not be carrying you as if you might whisper into the cracks of my hands something I will remember
Something like the velvet of your ear lobe between my thumb and forefinger or the thicker skin on your neck that ties your skull and backbone together
Something I won’t even try to forget Something exactly like that

“Yes, that’s what you’ve told me to do.” By Sasha at her desk

Friday June 28, 2019
12:05pm
Dipped from a dream

I’m not sure what you meant when you said that you “value our friendship” and that “I’ve meant a lot to you.” That’s obvious. It’s so obvious that it’s weird to say! We’ve known each other for almost twenty years! We used to get high together. You’ve flossed while I shit, barely two feet between us! If you’re nervous to say something, that’s okay, I mean, I get it. When you love someone it can be hard to say things that truly matter but what’s the point of chit-chat when there’s something underneath that’s bigger… it usually takes over the chit-chat anyway, via distraction.

“It must be nice to hold” by Julia at the cabin in Galina Bay

Thursday June 27, 2019
9:45pm
5 minutes
Calypso
David Sedaris

Like the front scruff of a standard poodle, the soft of a blind dog’s ears.
There is more to feel than the fur or the bone. It must be nice to hold the trust of your companion–in a small dish, or a pocket. Safe there from the heartbreak of losing the other half of his soul.
We offer choice to a dog who has lost the ability to decide whether to stay in or go out.
A lap for a lay, will he or will he remain upright for the third day in a row?
Will he stop trembling?
Will he say yes? Or maybe?

“It must be nice to hold” by Sasha at her desk

Thursday June 27, 2019
12:00pm
5 minutes
Calypso
David Sedaris

It must be nice to hold
a drink
in the “C”
of your hand
a beer
unassuming
assured

and flirt
like the person
you are

Pin the tail on
the wife
holding you back
from the truth
while God laughs
while the wife laughs

You
are the only
one who can
hold yourself
back from the truth
my love
my hate
my heart
my fate

My fear
is not as big
as the mouth
of a whale

“The ads were put on billboards” by Julia at the cabin in Galina Bay

Wednesday June 26, 2019
9:45pm
5 minutes
The Tipping Point
Malcolm Gladwell

I’ve been told recently that bats love mosquitoes and will eat a billion of them at once. Why did I grow up thinking bats were scary? Because they are doing the Lord’s work as far as I’m concerned and I could have been team bats my whole life. Also team swallow. Also team whatever else wants to eat them. There was no ad on a billboard anywhere with the information. There always seems to be the wrong information on billboards. More cleavage more money more perfect teeth for perfect existence. I just want to know who’s out there fighting the good fight. I just want to know which creatures eat mosquitoes and which animals to pray to. I want to know what kind of bones are good to give a dog (raw) and how to spot a pile of bear shit (berries), or that this feeling will one day be a new feeling and I will be okay.

“The ads were put on billboards” by Sasha at her desk

Wednesday June 26, 2019
12:02pm
5 minutes
The Tipping Point
Malcolm Gladwell

I’m sorry that I’ve been gone. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this.

I’ve missed setting my timer (not for the laundry or lentils on the stove).

I’ve missed writing, so so much. Oh my God, I’m crying like writing died. Writing rested. While I learned about softening into the small body of a being so fresh she smells like clouds and caramel.

But then the page calls, soft and unassuming. Could almost miss it amidst all the growing, all the bursting open. Almost.

Things are changing everywhere. All the time. There are years, months, weeks, days where the changing feels so big that it’s all around. Like night. Or lake swimming.

Home smells like this place.

“They backed off right away” by Sasha in her bed

Tuesday June 25, 2019
9:26pm
5 minutes
From a text

He was different. He didn’t try to fuck me the first time he slept over. Ironic, now… He was intelligent, progressive, creative, articulate, sexy, conscious, tuned in. He wanted me. He wanted to be with only me. He asked me to be his girlfriend, and I told everyone else I was seeing that I’d met someone.

This is why I love him.

We loved each other with passion and fire and fear and truth. We love each other the same now, but different too. We love each other with fatigue and disappointment and folding laundry and a joint bank account and long hours and tired nipples. We love each other feet touching under the covers, our baby between us, we love each other through her.

“They backed off right away” by Julia at the Little Green Ranch

Tuesday June 24, 2019
9:19pm
5 minutes
From a text

We tell each other our personal stories so we can push against Big things like Big Pharma and in your words, Big Dental. Say no to flouride and do not let them talk you out of it. We now know that shit is way more expensive and the dentists can’t even give you a good reason why you should use it when you ask them, sunglasses on and everything.

You say what you learned and I say what I learned and then we bind it all together in a book for the future us or the future’s future.
We help prepare each other for battle in case anyone gives us push back when we assert our opinions.

One day if we forget the way we used to do things, we’ll consult the book and nod familarly at what we already know somewhere deep in the core of us.

“two mirrors facing” by Julia at the studio

Monday June 24, 2019
6:59am
5 minutes
from an old vision board

I stuck a mirror in my makeup bag in case your aunt doesn’t have any mirrors,
or in case I can’t go a few days without looking at myself.
You are cool with this no electricity, no running water thing, and I am cool.
I am very cool about it. I have only thought about how I will dry my hair once, and the answer is AIR.
So that’s cool.
I have never showered in a lake before which I think I’m going to like.
Unless your aunt and her people all go down their naked together?
They’re not going to ask to shower with us are they?
Never mind, don’t answer that. I am very cool.

I also packed some pads. I’m not looking forward to having my period
on a paper plate again, so I’ll just..free-bleed..so all good.
Oh the plate? Yeah that was at a different cottage with running water and stuff
just the pipes froze over and we couldn’t use any of it.
I was bringing my blood on a plate out into the snow and burying it like a squirrel.
I don’t know if squirrels bury things like blood, but if so, we are all cool, all of us.

I wrote a note to our former selves because I’ve heard that living without
wifi for more than 24 hours really changes a person.
I wrote: You love each other, just because you can’t upload a picture of this
doesn’t mean it’s not happening!

“I always gotta comfort you” by Julia at her desk

Sunday June 23, 2019
5:40pm
5 minutes
Stronger Than Me
Amy Winehouse

I’m a little weary of men who ask for my advice on the phrasing of things.
Like, which word should I use to sound less aggressive?
This is a normal question but I resent being asked.
Here, this is how you pretend, is what you’d like me to say.
The truth is your instinct is aggressive and my words will
not change that from true to no longer.
I wonder why then, if women think so deeply on the correct words to feel,
are men as busy contemplating which word they should hide behind?
Is one of these the right way?
Is there an invisible punishment for failing to adhere to one way or the other?
I’m weary of men who ask for my heart as armour for their actions.
Ones who won’t think twice about changing their feeling
but will go to great lengths to avoid the consequence of that feeling,
who will employ my empathy but discard it upon use.
Always in use.