“These are the demons you wanted” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Monday September 3, 2018
5 minutes
7:41am
FtM
Kierst Wade

You asked for this when you were in your mother’s womb
You asked to be wrapped in colts foot and birch bark
You asked to be burned and wrung out and lifted high
You asked for the stars to be in Aries
the moon to full
You asked for twelve trusted women to flank you
when you emerged
naked and screaming and howling at the Gods

You asked to be tested
to be tried
to be true

You asked for all of this by choosing them
and then you asked again when you chose him
and here you are asking this newness
this dawn
and you asked again for the grace to
rise

“Semi-bush vines, very sweet,” by Julia on her parents’couch


Monday December 26, 2016
2:02am
5 minutes
from an old tag

I was waiting for the perfect lull of eventual inhale that my mother would have to take before continuing on in her way about the planters and the balcony hangers. She always got so excited about the possibility of me becoming more self-sufficient in a way that no one would have thought twice about when she was my age. I didn’t exactly have the heart to tell her hat I didn’t have a green thumb or possibly any thumb and this would all be a moot point. She was too busy telling me I could do basil and parsley or tomatoes even, because then I could “at least make a proper sugo.” What I really wanted was for her to stop talking long enough for me to tell her about the poem that had just gotten accepted into a Canadian anthology. Maybe she would be excited that I managed to make some kind of art..or maybe she would think it didn’t matter if it couldn’t be added to an eggplant parmigiana.

“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

“You can grow” by Julia at Sambuca Grill


Thursday, September 19, 2013 at Sambuca Grill
5:09pm
5 minutes
Mindbodygreen.com

Herbs, he was thinking. Big basil in the back yard, big love in the kitchen. He watched his father build a beautiful garden filled with every kind of tomato and green leaf and rhubarb. He didn’t know his wife hated rhubarb when they first met, but when he realized he was hopeful that he would change her mind. His mother, on the other hand, loved the stuff so much they were eating a rhubarb pie every 4th day. And nobody complained. Big love in the kitchen. He sometimes questioned his ability to read people. He was on occasion disappointed with his wife’s narrow minded pallet, her stubbornness when it came to trying new things. How was she raised? He’d sometimes wonder out lout and let his brain move back to the days where his parents didn’t even give him the option. Eat what’s on your plate, they’d say.