Saturday July 22, 2017
The Chang Girls
Lan Samantha Chang
K and D start laughing uncontrollably. They don’t even try to hush their loud the way young girls seem to know better than adult ones. I keep my face focussed on the blue-lined paper, the margins, the blank space. I steal a glance at them from the corner of my eye and remind myself we aren’t friends anymore and I don’t need to care. They can be talking or laughing about whatever they want and I don’t have to buckle into myself. D snorts her signature sign of enjoyment and K wipes the tears pooling under her cheap mascara. I ignore them. I don’t need them. Suddenly K comes over to me and snatches my notebook right from under my pretending. I scramble for it. I miss.
K throws my book to D and D snorts again. K blows me a kiss.
Sunday June 18, 2017
They Used To Call Me Snow White…But I Drifted
Good girls wear miniskirts and have their hair teased, that was made clear. We were to smoke and choke and snort and suck and smile smile smile. This isn’t a poem, so don’t worry about it. We were welcomed with a weigh-in and then told that if we gained the normal fifteen whatevers we would be out out out on our bodacious asses. Cassandra even said that she knew a girl who knew a girl who did gain the whatevers and they actually did kick her out and she didn’t get her deposit back or anything.
Sunday February 26, 2017
Dear Sugar Radio
When Heloise first saw Penelope, she knew that they’d been cut from the same piece of floral corduroy. It had nothing to do with the hands of the mothers that they were each holding. It had everything to do with their size. Both a head taller than everyone else in their Grade Three class, the girls became fast friends. Height aside, their physical features couldn’t have been more different. Heloise had jet black hair cut into a bob, with blunt bangs that ended just above her eyebrows. Her mother had the exact same haircut. They went every five weeks to the salon on 10th. Heloise’s eyes were brown, like her father’s, and she had a small mouth, which she regarded with disdain. Penelope had auburn curls, which she wore loosely braided down one side. She had her ears pierced, and wore small jade heart studs. They’d been a birthday present from her mother. Penelope’s mother reminded everyone of someone they knew. “I have one of those faces,” she’d say with a smile.
Wednesday December 21, 2016
So Full Of Light
Marie Specht Fisher
We thought we were sisters until we were
too old to take baths together and we started
hissing and picking the knobs off
backs instead Sometimes you’d paint my nails
a colour that I would never choose
Lavender or indigo or charcoal
I’d refuse to wash dishes those weeks
or bathe because I didn’t want the you
on me to chip I didn’t want the choices
you’d made to fall away from my fleshy form
We rubbed grass-stained skin together and
started a fire that our fathers and their
fathers fathers couldn’t put out
Tuesday December 13, 2016
Summer OF My Amazing Luck
Danika and I couldn’t believe her mom would let us have the house to ourselves for the weekend. The ENTIRE weekend. We were drunk on freedom and cotton balls and anything from the medicine cabinet that we could have turned into crafts or art. The first night we both had double chocolate fudge ice cream for dinner and a can of whipped cream EACH for dessert. What a life! We didn’t think to get an emergency number from Danika’s mom before she left, or find out where exactly she was going to be for this long without worrying about her 9 year old kid and her best friend. My mom would never let us stay by ourselves. So we didn’t tell my mom that Danika’s mom left a note on the kitchen table that she had scrawled in messy writing saying “Gone for the weekend, Hamburger Helper on the stove.”
Wednesday November 16, 2016
Dear Sugar Radio
I found the sweet spot in a twin bed in my father’s house
second floor of the Victorian brick house on the tree-lined street
Lying on my back thinking thinking seeing thinking wishing panting
parting spreading leaking oh oh say it yes sweet sweet sweet
There was not shame on the futon on the floor of the basement
of my mother’s house
first love like liquid gold between my legs
first love passion and clumsy hands and is it supposed to feel like
I see these young ones
I see these crying mothers
for their daughters in crop tops with eyes the basins of longing
Fill me up
Fill me up
Friday February 19, 2016 at Culprit Coffee
Thursday February 18, 2016
Bitty and I found a little cat cat down by the lava house. Bitty’s the one who named it the lava house. I asked Rodney and he told me it was just a sewer. I like when Bitty calls things different because then we have a secret language and it feels like cookies and cream or picking out a splinter from your big toe after limping all day. Bitty picked up the cat cat first and told me she was going to take her home and I said, you mean “him” home and she said, this cat cat can be whoever she wants to be. And I said, yeah, well, I can see his thingy so maybe this one can’t. I didn’t want the cat cat until Bitty said she wanted her. Him. Ugh. But as soon as I couldn’t have him I needed him. More than I’ve ever needed anything. I needed to pretend like it could be her way, like it always is. But that was hard because it was staring to burn inside, like throwing up too much cookies and cream or getting a giant splinter lodged deep into your big toe.
Sunday May 24, 2015
When I’m away
Adrienne and Lara were sitting on the bar stools in Adrienne’s parents’ basement. Only Lara’s chair swiveled and Adrienne secretly wished Lara wasn’t on it.
“I want to talk about sex,” Lara suddenly announced.
“Uhh..I don’t know–”
“I think I have to lose my virginity by the time I’m 16. I have to or I’ll just die. ”
Adrienne was uncomfortable. She had made a pact with her cousin, Tina, that they’d both wait until..well..they were older. They briefly discussed holding out for college.
“Didn’t you hear me, Age? What’s your year?”
“Yeah. Same. 16. Or I’ll just die…”
Lara was spinning around and around. Adrienne watched as her anger grew.
Thursday February 26, 2015
My Immortal Promise
shouting and laughing and throwing dirt
our clothes are the earth’s fingerprints
and our shoes are the bits of bulbs
the new life will come soon
we can feel it between our toes
we make mud pies and sell them to each other
for three butterfly kisses
two sets of sisters
we were born to be here
naked as the days we were born
nothing of it
only bodies and unselfconscious beauty
drinking from the spout at the side of the house
painting our faces with beet greens
drawing stories on our backs with dandelion
Saturday January 31, 2015
from a quote by Osho
I’m inspired by THIS GIRL
She leaves her stuff unattended
She’s not restricted by fear
like the rest of us
A Mac laptop
A handful of pens and an
They beg me to steal them
Especially the pens
They looks like they have out-of-this world
She’s gone for longer than
She’s gone for a solid
walk around the block
Back like nothing happened
Like I didn’t touch the soft
supple aluminum of her
Wednesday December 3, 2014 at Culprit Coffee
A text message
A: How’s it goin’?
B: Okay… I got in a fight with Bobby last night so I got no sleep and now I’m really tired.
A: What was the fight about?
B: He keeps checking out butts! When I’m right there! And I’ve had it! So, I called him on it and he freaked.
A: You have a great butt. I don’t know why he’d ever have to look at someone else’s butt when he has yours all the livelong day!
A: I’ve said it once and I’ll say it a thousand more times, you are too good for Bobby!
B: But… I love him.
A: And that is what I simply don’t understand.
A: I, I… I have something that I want to –
B: And, like, when I even bring you up to him he gets that jealous look and his forehead gets sweaty!
B: Yeah! Which is ridiculous because we’re JUST FRIENDS!
Wednesday November 12, 2014
From a text from Bec
How’s it going? How was Jenny’s birthday? Party town balloon time?! I wish I could’ve been there. I miss you sooooooooo much. Like, you don’t even know. It sucks being here. My Dad is cool and my Mom is trying her best not to be a bitch but my brother? Oh my god. I honestly think that he’s an undiagnosed sociopath. Like, fully. He’s collecting dead bugs and archiving them on his wall. The wall of his room. My Mom says, “Leave him be…” as though there’s nothing weird going on at all. And he is totally obsessed with video games. He has a TV in his room now and sometimes he doesn’t even come out for meals. Mom leaves food outside his door like he’s in prison. It’s so weird. If I didn’t have Denny’s I would shoot myself in the head. But, I’m saving money, so that’s good. I guess. Ever since that DUI my parents aren’t helping with tuition so… I have to do what I have to do. I don’t want to be a bum my whole life so I have to finish this stupid degree.
Saturday November 1, 2014 at Higher Grounds
From the program notes for Saint Joan at the Arts Club
I have a huge crush on Jay. Like, huge. I realize that I act like an idiot around him, laughing and blushing and pretending I don’t know things that I do know. I know a lot of things. My voice gets high and my cheeks get red and I almost can’t feel my toes when I’m around him. I can see myself, floating above, the real me, the one that has read the whole Young Adult section at the library, acting like a fucking bimbo idiot. I am ashamed of myself.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
April Come She Will
Simon And Garfunkel
In September I’ll remember the wild call of your heart to mine.
In September I’ll remember avoiding your phone call like mono kisses.
In September I’ll remember myself, and you, braiding grass and drinking warm beer from cans.
In September I’ll remember when you told me and how we cried and how you looked younger than the day you were born.
In September I’ll remember when we decided to have sex and how salty it was and how gentle you were and how happy I was to have escaped the mystery.
In September I’ll remember meeting Jer, your first boyfriend, the one who taught you everything you know about being with a man, and I’ll remember how he looked me up and down and said I was a “fairy queen”.
In September I’ll remember visiting you in Montreal and eating too much salami and laughing til I peed and I took off my undies and threw them in the woods.
Thursday June 5, 2014 at Sambuca Grill
from a sign on the wall of the Antique Shop
I wanted to call her Ginny because I thought that was cute but Madeleine bit my head off about it and said I had to call her by her full name, Virginia, or everyone else would start calling her stupid “off-shoot” names. She said “off-shoot” as if it were some terrible disease. I think nicknames are sweet. Mad never cared that I called her a short-form. It wasn’t an “off-shoot” as much as it was a term of endearment. Something you call someone that means something to you because it’s your thing and her thing or his thing or whatever. Anyway, Virginia ended up being a boy so we had to think of another name for her after all. I always picture when we have a girl, or if we do, that Mad will want to still call her Virginia and maybe I can call her Ginny when Mad’s not around so it can be our special thing, just the two of us. Names are a very important part of a person’s identity. I don’t want to have a kid that has to go around correcting everybody just because they call her a name her mother doesn’t like. She’s the one who calls me Mike when she knows my mother hates it when I get anything other than Michael.
Sunday June 1, 2014
A List of Questions to inspire scenes
1.Waking up after wearing tight bottoms and seeing belly fat first thing in the morning
3.People who hate other people for no reason
4.Guys holding a woman’s purse just so she doesn’t have to
5.Girls who ask guys to hold their purses so they don’t have to
6.Food getting thrown away before everyone is offered some
7.Batteries. (honestly, WHERE are they supposed to go when they’re dead?)
8.Ingrown hairs that leave scars
9.Having to use my keys to get into my house
10.Going to sleep without yawning the right amount
11.People who don’t drink enough water and then complain about always having head aches
12.When people don’t move out of the way on the sidewalk for people trying to actually use it
Tuesday March 11, 2014 at Sambuca Grill
the to.night street box
Charlie and Ray were spying on Lacey again from their bedroom window. Lacey’s room was in perfect view of the boy’s room and they got real good at sitting in the complete darkness just waiting for Lacey to come home from violin practice and..you know..change for bed. Charlie saw her first, and as such was very protective. Charlie knew that Ray was just eager to see her lady business and he didn’t actually appreciate Lacey the way he did..the way she deserved.
Ray was under the influence of her spell binding, maturing body…parts…and he could tell that Charlie was maybe gay or just plain stupid if he turned his face away every time she took her top off. Ray was certain that he would have Lacey to himself one day soon because it looked like Charlie was getting bored of her, always conveniently finding a crossword or a weather clipping from the nightly newspaper to pay attention to just when it was getting good.
Wednesday March 5, 2014
the box of matches
I’m not sorry for calling your name in my sleep and waking up my wife. I’m not sorry. See, I never told her about you and I had no choice now and that was a good thing. I can’t blame you on PTSD. I can’t blame you on rum. I can’t blame you on forgetting that I had a wife and twin girls and a blue doored house back home. I’m not sorry.
Okay. I hear you, Eric. But when you arrived today you said you felt “sorry”. That was your word. Why did you say that?
Because I’m sorry that Rebecca feels betrayed. That’s her word. “You fucking betrayed us!” She screamed. And she doesn’t just speak for herself. She speaks for the girls, too. That’s the worst part. And it’s true, I guess. I did. But she doesn’t know what it’s like there. She doesn’t know that Kabul smells like fresh baked bread and that the women have eyes like wolves.
Monday, February 10, 2014 at Cafe Novo
Under the Lilacs
Louisa M. Alcott
All the little girls with their little girl curls, running wild in the parks and the lawns of strangers. Flying high with the morning giggles syphoned from a rainbow’s end, learning to hold hands with the younger ones and protect them from the mean ones.
All the little girls with their little girl curls, eating blueberries from the bush and getting raspberry stains on their little girl frill. With sighs about the afternoon and their late day naps, not wanting to miss the moments of growth and maturation that come from watching Mommy.
All the little girls with their little girl curls, thinking they can change the moods of the wind and the ocean and have them turn in their favour. They dream big with their wide-eyes and believe the impossible is possible and not only possible but easy.
All the little girls with their little girl curls, drinking sweet pear nectar from a bright blue or yellow cup. Gulping back the flesh of a fruit in a juice so perfectly constructed to suit their needs and satiate their every curiosity.
Saturday, November 16, 2013 at Rustic Owl Cafe
Edge Studio DG Tour Script Selection
Learned how to play the ukelele to impress girls,
asked a lot of stupid questions he already knew the answer to,
refused to go to bed before midnight,
ate crepes at lunch, and dinner, on weekdays,
preferred to jam in the garage even in the winter,
warned his mother about him leaving someday,
dreamed in vivid blues and purples and reds,
spent Saturday nights playing Gin Rummy with his grandmother,
asked a friend to knit him a scarf for Christmas,
watched and re-watched The Sandlot,
ran away from home for one night only,
made a batch of cookies to bring to his teachers,
ran in the Student Council and became an Athletic Chair,
drove his father’s Toyota Corolla into the neighbours basket ball net,
sang in a choir at church for the last time,
prepared to-do lists on napkins, and hand towels,
avoided cleaning his room at all costs,
helped mow the lawn and water the rhubarb,
brought home the girl with the broken glasses out of fear.
Saturday October 12, 2013
from the 2011 Toronto Star article ‘American Girl still walking tall’
When Tash and Rowan found the bird, it was barely breathing. Rowan picked it up from the rusty leaves and cradled it in her open palms. She could feel it’s heartbeat, rapid and quaking. “What should we do?” Tash whispered. She was usually the one with the plan, but knew she should refer to the reader of the Eye Witness books and the winner of the Zoology prize three years in a row. Rowan held a pointer finger to her pursed lips. Tash nodded. They had both worn their purple sweatshirts and rainboots from the Hardware Store. Rowan’s were bigger. Tash’s sweatshirt had a stain on the bottom cuff, from when she ate spaghetti with her fingers. Rowan cupped her hands around the bird so that it was fully enveloped, and walked as if there was a stack of books on her head, like she’d seen in a movie. When they got to the library Tash looked confused. “It’s Sunday. It’s closed!” She whispered. Rowan walked to the back of the old building. She knocked on the small door three times.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Alligator Party Rental form
Did you see the way Callie knocked the ever-living shit out of Stephanie? It was AMAZING. I mean, girl had it coming. She was acting all tough and whatever, but Callie hates fake ass bitches so hard she can’t help herself. She can’t help herself even for one second! It was so great. Everyone around just dropped their jaws and stared at Stephanie while she tried to get up. Like, she wasn’t expecting it either, which is totally understandable since she didn’t really know Callie that well. I mean, if I’m being honest, I’m glad she wasn’t expecting it. I’m glad that she learned her lesson the hard way. Now we probably never have to see her again. Girl’s gonna be so scared to come back around her. Knowing that Callie will not hesitate to fuck her right the fuck up. She’d have to be a real moron to do anything near Callie again, that’s for sure. It’s like, Enter at your own risk, you know? If Stephanie isn’t still seeing stars from being ADJUSTED by Callie, then she must have some secret force field around her that no one else can see. Because even if you didn’t witness it up close, ANYONE within 100 feet would have heard the hit.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Shelly wanted to flip her hair out the way she had watched Skyla do it a million times. Sky said it was so easy and Shelly just nodded her head and waited till she was alone to practice. Skyla was better at it. She was born that way, Shelly assumed. She wasn’t one of those people that when they’re young they don’t know about shaving their legs until grade 9. Skyla knew about all the stuff a woman is supposed to know about early on. Maybe she was even the first. She had everything that Shelly wanted. Shelly tried to wear pink lipgloss and tweeze her eyebrows when she saw that Skyla’s had a more defined arch than her own. She was told specifically that she was not to wear mascara until high school, so Shelly used vaseline instead, just the way Skyla taught her, and the way just being alive taught Skyla. She wondered if people like Skyla ever had to deal with acne, or even freckles. She didn’t even want to hear the answer to that dilemma as if the response alone would kill her dead in her knobby knees. Skyla was not above giving lessons, but even her beauty sessions came at a price. Skyla always told the girls, “You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”
Thursday, July 4, 2013 at Sambuca Grill
She’s sorry, you know. In case you never hear it from her mouth or in case she never lets on that she is. She really is. But she’s scared, so you’ll just have to accept that you might not always get to be right outwardly. She’ll take a couple stabs at you, and then she’ll offer to clean the hate off your favourite shirt..but she’s not saying that she knew she was wrong. She’s not admitting that she’s at fault. That she’s responsible for anything. She knows deep down somewhere, but to say it…to say it means to believe it means to really truly feel it. And she does, you can rest easy knowing that she does. But she won’t let you hear it. She won’t give you that satisfaction that you probably need just as much as she needs to make sure you don’t get it. But she’ll come around. She will. She always does. She’ll learn and she’ll be better for it. The time it took her to get over it all and just…plain…apologize..