“Union dues” by Julia at her desk

Thursday February 14, 2019
9:52pm
5 minutes
from a tax form

Never part of the heard
Never a shepherd either
This one time, took a dance class, a lot of pointing
And flexing
Teased
At the dance class
Underarm hair, visible, peculiar
Didn’t even want to take that class
Wanted jazz
Wanted something with more jump
Never thought about teasing
Thought about jazz
Thought everyone there wanted that
Maybe next year
Never took class again
Didn’t like competing

“Includes taxes” by Julia at Our Town Cafe


Wednesday October 5, 2016 at Our Town
6:40pm
5 minutes
from the Westjet website

Enid dances around in her new bodysuit. It sparkles in the light, she notices, when she takes shape in the diagonal. She practices leaping out from the bedroom in front of the full length mirror…in a splits. She tries to keep her head facing forward while stealing a glance at herself at the same time. She kinks her neck. She tries twice more before the whiplash buzzes. Enid’s body suit is coloured unicorn and made out of suntan oil fabric that kisses and smears her skin into confident. She realizes she still has the tag hanging from the back. She is proud of her rare find. Only $5.99 from the second hand bin! $6.77 including tax and rounding up.

“Who taught us to embrace life” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Monday May 30, 2016
5:13pm
5 minutes
from a bench memorial plaque

if I was born a dancer
in body in stead of
in words
i would move like i move
in water
in bed sheets
like i mov-
ed at twenty-three
on sweaty dance
floors kissing
strangers like
my tongue knew
things my gut
didn’t i’ve always
wished i were a dancer
dancing to teach me
to embrace the rhythm in-
herent in my womban-
ness my woman-
mess dancing teaches me
about my unborn daughter’s
heart
beat
a dj who knows what i
ache for
ate for
breakfast lunch midnight
snack picking up bobbi
pins from the women’s
washroom
womb
in
womb out
worn in
worn out
ring in
ring out
ring on

“a wacky one” by Sasha on the 16


Saturday, January 16, 2016
11:03am
5 minutes
Sasha’s notebook

He’s got that dancer body
He’s proud of it
Like lightning
Like trouble
He moves with grapefruit grace
With big hands and a bigger heart
With grace and assuredness that belies his
twenty two years
He inhabits every inch of himself like
a
proclamation
Like he’s arrived and we’
re late
I’ve never seen a body like his body and I don’t know
what to do with it
When I stand
naked
in front of him
nipples shy
hips like the winter grey moon
he
he looks
a shooting star in periferal vision

“Some of the inspiration came from silent movies.” By Sasha at Great Dane Coffee


Tuesday March 24, 2015 at Great Dane Coffee
2:43pm
5 minutes
From Women In Clothes
Sheila Heti, Heidi Julavits, Leanne Shapton & 639 Others


When she moves she’s a dancer but
she’s not a dancer
in the proper sense of the word
capital D
She doesn’t glide across sprung floors to the beat of
a drum or
leap like a fawn from here to there
legs spread wide
She moves with grace down the aisle of the grocery store
stretching a long arm for a high placed bottle of low sodium soy sauce
Pushing her cart like it contains her first born daughter
A small watermelon
Some linguine noodles
A bag containing seven lemons

“Ballerina afraid” by Julia at Starbucks


Thursday, January 31, 2013 at Starbucks
2:12pm
5 minutes
Metro News Thursday January 31, 2013

I’m clenching my teeth because when I get focused I really start to hurt myself. Only started cutting when I was finished university, so that’s something I’m truly proud of. Made it pretty far before they had to operate on the disgusting hair ball in my stomach too. That’s from the stress. It’s cause I have a lot going on. Who doesn’t, am I right? My jaw is a mess. My dentist tells me to wear a mouth guard to bed, but I don’t because back in the day, there wasn’t a fix to these problems and people got on just fine without any help.
I’m not saying I want to do this all on my own, I just mean, if my body is reacting to certain things, fight or flight, then I should trust that. Not everyone is meant to have a perfect set of bottom teeth, okay. Not everyone is meant to weigh 108 pounds and lift their legs over their heads. That’s my bag, I guess, I was just sort of thrown into it based on one experience as a child, expressing some vague interest in prancing around in a leotard. Now I do it, I’m not saying I don’t, but I do it, and this is my life. I maintain a low weight, I cut the places no one sees or thinks to see, and I don’t eat my hair anymore, but I want to. We’re all a little fucked up. I’m just worried that when my dad finds out about the cutting he’ll try and quarantine me again. It’s his way of doing a casual intervention.