“retirement and investment savings” by Sasha at her desk

Saturday August 3, 2019
11:28am
5 minutes
From a piece of mail

I worried about money until other things came on deck
things that take more breath and bones than bills do

and that is privilege in action right

Fuck
I’m sorry

I used to think by thirty-three there’d be retirement
and investment savings but
well

that’s just not the case
like so many cases are not the case
and so many cases are
case closed
case re-opened
“In this case I…”

what is the case is broken hearts

and packing tape
and all our stuff piling up in a corner of a room
where I both do and don’t want to be
where I do and don’t need to be

healing hearts
hearts in throats
little kid hearts hurting so bad
wanting to heal
wanting release

wanting to teach our girl that
love looks like being true
and being true looks like vulnerability
and vulnerability is power

hearts in the hands of all the earthly angels that love us

I circle my mind
a low flying gull
ride her tail feathers towards destruction
ride her wings towards hope

“Near Middle: for “Devilish woman,” by Sasha at her desk

Saturday February 17, 2018
12:22
5 minutes
Errata and Addenda
Rachaela Van Borek

She reaches into her pocket and there’s a melting Hershey’s kiss, six fifty in change, a receipt for a mini bottle of vodka, and lip chap that she’s scraped out using her pinkie nail. This is the state of her life. This is what she deserves. This is forty-two. She pulls her hand out. Step back.

She caught his eye in the elevator that first time only because that one asshole who had to stand facing the opposite direction. It’s eight thirty in the morning, dingus. Now is not the time for a social experiment. He’d smiled. He’s gorgeous. She’d blushed. Game over.

She packs her desk up into a banker’s box – lemon hand cream, a framed photo of her nephew, her BOSS mug, the succulent that’s hanging on by a thread. Is that what it’s come to? Step back.

He texts her and says that he’s thinking of her. He’s on a beach in Playa del Carmen. His kids are probably squishing guacamole all over his torso. His wife is probably emerging from the ocean, tan and beautiful.

“as long as there’s a laugh in it.” by Sasha in her bed


Monday February 18, 2013
11:47pm
5 minutes
Anne of Green Gables
L.M. Montgomery


The tallest tree in the world is in California. You’d cut a picture of it out of National Geographic and had tacked it to the wall in the bathroom. I would trY to count it’s boughs as I plucked my eyebrows or took my before-bed pee. We made plans to climb it, a long time ago, when my hair was still long and you still called Heather every Sunday night at seven our time, ten her time. You’re gone now, but that plan still lives somewhere inside of me, below my sternum, nestled near the strawberry shortcake birthday. I book my ticket for my sixy seventh birthday. I’m landing in San Francisco. My nephew will pick me up from the airport. I haven’t seen him since he was fifteen, and had hands bigger than my head, a basketball gripped for dear life. I’m so nervous I can’t sleep, the night before I’m set to leave. My suitcase is packed with a few T-shirts, cotton underwear, well-worn jeans, new hiking pants, running shoes, one bra, travel-sized shampoo and conditioner, moisturizer, my old Minolta. I find myself thinking about where you are now, wondering if I’ll see you there, climbing our tree.