“conducted his own laboratory experiments” by Julia at her mom’s dining table

Monday May 13, 2019
2:51pm
5 minutes
The Flouride Deception
Christopher Bryson

In the laboratory (kitchen) my mother is filling
the espresso machine with more beans.
She is on the phone with her sister in Italy,
speaking in dialetto and switching to English
when it’s easier to explain. I am conducting my
own experiment about which Animal is aligned
with my authentic essence and which medicine
I should take care to recognize as an offering
to the world who needs it. I am asking which
animals do I reject? I asked her earlier, and she
said snakes. In Italy there are snakes all over
the place. I saw my first one in the mountain town
where my mother grew up and where my nonna lived.
There are a few more experiments to participate in,
the animal of my family, the tribe that I belong to.
I’ll have to ask more questions, write down more
findings and one day draw a map with all the right
tree roots connecting. We all have a specimen to
study. Some inner worlds become one and when they
do I want to be able to notice them. I want to
vibrate buzz with the truth reflected around me. I want

to arrive and stay arriving with my heart out, collecting.

“Where you’re from” by Julia at R Squared Cafe


Monday, April 29, 2013 at R Squared Cafe
11:02am
5 minutes
Caitlin’s warmup prompt

Where you’re from you don’t know anger. You don’t know I’m sorry and you don’t know Go to bed without dinner. You don’t know a songless table, Christmas Eve, or a sageless closet, bathroom, etcetera. You don’t know the leather slipper and all its rage. You don’t know perfectly folded laundry that smells like the mountains and nothing else. You don’t know lasagna for dessert, breakfast, and midnight snack. You don’t know spicy salami hanging on a string, cut thick and eaten with ciabatta before your parents come up for their morning espresso. Where you’re from you have yours. All the wounded pride that anyone else would have. All the snails collected in a mason jar that has the concord grape sticker peeled off. You have the sun telling you to stretch out. You have the moon thanking your mother for a good night. You have the rocky screen door and better windchimes than I could ever hope for. You have the silence of not knowing, the calm of preparation, and you know not the fear of panicking for no reason.