“Is it coffee time yet?” by Sasha on Sarah’s bed in Abbotsford


Sunday, April 5, 2015
11:14pm
5 minutes
Overheard at the bus station in Kitchener

She ties the rubber in a knot and flicks the white liquid. She scrunches her nose. She adds it to the jar. Thirty five. She texts Bec. “Up yer game bitch”. Flat Face Pug Man was completely quiet when he came. His Flat Face barely changed. She’d watch them, all of them, number six through til now, focused on the tiny muscles around their eyes, the purse of the lips, the flexing biceps.

“Thank you for using Bell, how may I help you today?” She gulps from her coffee mug. “Nancy?” She recognizes the voice. Her heart drops, a bomb in her stomach. “Hold please…” She crawls under her desk and sucks her thumb. Chris finds her like that, three hours later. “Are you okay?” She nods. Her phone vibrates on the cubicle desk above her head. “It’s from Bec,” says Chris, getting down on his knees and taking her face in his hands.

“there are many who are experts” by Sasha at Cafe Pamenar


Friday October 18, 2013 at Cafe Pamenar
4:51pm
5 minutes
The PACT Conference 2007 Keynote Speech
Brian Quirt


There are many who are experts in Zoology and Scientology
In Rigor-ology and Astrology
There are those who speak the language of equations and permutations
Of fractions and subtractions
There are some who laugh at hilarities
Who sigh at profanities
Who “ooh” and “ahh” at the foibles of humanities
There are few who glare at rebellions
Who frown at the hellions
Who curse the loud-talkers by the millions
There are few though
There are few who speak the secret language that we do
Who know the charms of our voodoo
Who smoke the dreams of the ones that you knew
There are few though
Who sing the songs that we sing
Who ding the bells that we ding
Who clang the clocks that we ring
Who run at the ocean and fling their bodies in
There are few
Who make mixtures of herbs and spices
Who live life by the toss of the dices