“I liked watching him BBQ” by Sasha on her couch

Thursday June 7, 2018
11:13pm
5 minutes
From a text 

Driving along the country road
The paved ones before the gravel ones
I stick my arm out the window
and play with the air

You’ve never been to Knowlton Lake before
and I am already excited about waking up tomorrow
The way that the quiet hugs
The way that the birds know
the tune to the songs in our hearts

I can do no wrong with you
except when I do and then it’s bad
And then I cower in the corner
and you use your size
And I say that this isn’t what I want
and you cry until we go to the bedroom

James Taylor on the tape deck
I realize that I don’t know if
corn is in season
if we have to turn on the water
if there’s a French press

“I am a taffy snob” by Julia in the stairwell of the Artscape Youngplace building


Saturday May 30, 2015 at the Artscape Youngplace Building
4:01pm
5 minutes
From a text to Julia

I was in Halifax when I tried my first piece. Salt water. Perfect Melting New Religion. I bought 6 lbs of the stuff and threw out a pair of running shoes and a flask so I could fit it into my suitcase.
Emmy said, “I would have taken those shoes!”
Taryn said, “you know you can buy that stuff in Ontario too, right?”
But I knew it wouldn’t have been the same. It was like entering a childhood backwards, and experiencing something that was never mine but felt like it was meant to be. Now I don’t go for any old taffy. And why would I? I don’t hate myself for Christ’s sake! Why would I walk if I could run? No scratch that–FLY.

“any kind of company” by Sasha on her couch


Tuesday July 29, 2014
11:47pm
5 minutes
wikipedia.org

When we fall we fall fully
Full of air that our grandmothers breathed
When we land we land arms spread wide
Cupping the moment
Cupping the sound of our not-yet-born children laughing

We swim with great big breast-strokes
Diving deep below the blue
Counting sunshine glimmers
Counting fish
We blow bubbles out our noses

When we fall we fall fully
We fall like a disaster
Like a cake
When we fall we fall fully
We fall like a father
Like a leaf

“that they might have life” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday April 17, 2014
4:02pm
5 minutes
John 10:10

This is the time of year for fiddleheads
Or it should be
If winter would finally melt away once and for all
This is the time that the fiddleheads grow on the banks of the river
Peeking through the moist ground
I’ve heard that if you close your eyes and listen
You can hear the earth opening
They can grow four inches in a day
Fiddleheads taste like asparagus’ illusive cousin
Related distantly to mushrooms
And broccoli
They are my mother’s favourite
She used to steam them
Half an inch of water in the bottom of the pot
Just a few minutes
They should still crunch
She’d spoon a bit of butter
A sprinkle of salt
Fiddleheads are coming
There are no fiddlehead farms
Really
Just foragers who find them
And sell them
Who can make a pretty penny
On those early spring days
When we so crave something from the earth
Close by to where we life

“submerged regrets were ready to overflow” by Sasha at the Library at College and Crawford


Tuesday March 25, 2014
3:39pm
5 minutes
The New Yorker
Feb 17, 2014


You got the sense, when you looked at him, that he had all these submerged regrets, ready to overflow at any second… I’m not talking about the sister thing, I think we’ve all talked about that enough… It was the other stuff, you know, the missed opportunities or whatever. I don’t know. And then I’m like, who are we to even think we have any right to talk about this guys life?! Like, really? He had a choice and he made it. It’s not like he was one of those kids and you can say, he just needed some guidance. He was sixty three for Pete’s sake! Sixty three years of trying to find a better way… I heard a girl at the second hand shop on Princess St. saying that if only he’d this and if only he’d that but… We don’t know the half. I don’t think we even know a thing about a thing when it comes to someone with a bit of fame, a bit of notoriety… So that’s it. That’s the last I’m gonna talk about it. You have my word on that.

You know that I danced with him at Prom? Oh yeah… Smelled like rum…

“say I love your product” by Sasha at the CSI coffee pub


Wednesday February 19, 2014 at The CSI Coffee pub
11:50am
5 minutes
Dipped from Julia’s notebook

The forest breathed a sigh like spring and wrung her hands, squeezing out lilies of the valley and ferns. The grouse hopped to the stream and drank. Have you ever seen a bird drink? It’s phenomenal. Their beaks open, their strange tongues go in and out. The lake hummed at the tickle of the fish, the trout. The moss says, “pass the sangria?” Everyone laughs, except the grouse, who has fallen asleep near the rock shaped like a turtle.

I’m not sure about much these days, what with Allison’s memory loss, but I’m sure of all this and that feels good.

“on the contrary” by Sasha on the Bathurst streetcar


Wednesday, September 18, 2013
4:42pm
5 minutes
from the Dawn to Earth pamphlet

I left the city. Bunny came with me. He got his own seat on the bus and everything. He didn’t cry much, only once when we stopped and we didn’t get to buy a chocolate bar. I told him it would be better where we were going. Better than Hal trying to get us to eat cheese from a can and Mommy laughing at the empty bottles. I told him that Babar would never make us do the stack of dishes. All I knew was that Babar lived in Fance. I figured France must be close to London. I knew we could take a bus to London because I’d seen it on the Departure screen when we’d gone to St. Thomas to visit Aunt Ashley at Christmas. I told Bunny how Babar would treat us like princes and we still might have to share a room, but it would be so big we wouldn’t even notice. Bunny just looked at me like, “Drool”.