“intimate questions” by Julia on C’s couch


Friday June 23, 2017
10:34pm
5 minutes
from an e-mail

S gives me the idea
to interview my dad.
She’s interviewing hers.
She says she’s learning a lot.
I have always dreamt
of sitting down with
my father and talking with
him about the good stuff.
Like the time he crashed
the car, or the time he fell
in love with someone
who didn’t want him back
or the time he had his limp alcohol poisoned body
dragged home by his
parents who had to fetch
him from the underage
party at Lindsay’s house.
I want to know that he sees
himself in my mistakes and
that I’m not the only one.
That maybe I got some
extraordinary traits from
him beside my wild
curls and my penchant
for chili peppers.
I’d like to ask him if he’s ever regretted his anger
or if he’s ever had to
break up with an old
friend too.
You know
the good stuff.

“intimate questions” by Julia on C’s couch

“I was speaking body-to-body.” By Sasha at her desk


Wednesday June 21, 2017
11:18pm
5 minutes
From an interview with Lidia Yuknavitch on http://www.bloom-site.com

We don’t have much to say to each other
with these things
with these words
with syll-
ables
broken and frayed
and drunk on vowels

We speak body-to-body
sweaty sheets wound round
thighs and arms and
you touch me with the
conviction I’ve always
wanted to be wanted
in this articulation

When we walk down the
street you are distant
one hand on the handlebars
of your bicycle
I’m not used to this
arrangement of hard
K’s and V’s and
you disorient me
with your vague
interpretations of
song lyrics of the
band I wish I knew

I am gutted when
you stop calling
because I’ve only known
this body-to-body to mean
something
something languid
something truthful
something gracious

It’s two years before I
know the true taste of sweetness
of gentle whispered w’s and a’s

“I was speaking body-to-body.” By Sasha at her desk

“receiving invitation” by Julia in her bed


Tuesday June 20, 2017
11:18pm
5 minutes
from an email

I’ve been bleeding for days and nobody knows why. 
Nobody knows why because nobody knows and I suppose it’s up to me.
I make the calls and the appointments, I pay the bills or I don’t.
This growing thing, this fleshy bump is getting me down.
Isn’t that ironic-If to you growing means up. It is ironic that to me growing means up.
My impulsive decisions are growing too. In.
When Sarah pierced my ears on the back of a potato I didn’t think they’d ever be anything but proof of my young nights.
There was blood then too, on the carpet.

“receiving invitation” by Julia in her bed

“That’s what I was thinking” by Julia at her desk


Monday June 19, 2017
12:35am
5 minutes
overheard on West Broadway

Some days add up to zero
the hole of the afternoon
the cave of mid morning
post-its have been scribbled on
and posted but the glue is wrong
and everything flutters to
the ground eventually

Tomorrow’s list has been started
wake up is the hard thing
every other item can be done
if there is enough time

Some days add up to something o’clock
and not enough sleep
too many hours spent wondering how
to believe in scotch tape
and purple marker
instead of the looming possibility
of avoiding it all

“That’s what I was thinking” by Julia at her desk

“the usual flood of dark worries” by Julia on C’s couch


Saturday June 17, 2017
9:57pm
5 minutes
The Tools
Phil Stutz and Barry Michels


I find myself in the afternoon
but I lose myself every morning
it’s a hunger I don’t feed much
because it will eat whatever it can
find whether I like it or not
and why do extra work
the alarm was set for early o’clock
and ignored
the day sneaks past me like
it’s trying to keep something
from me
I assume it’s time
I am sure it’s grace
in the bathroom I can
be alone with my family of
dark worries
I can close the door
waste the water
light a candle
remain still
I find myself among the faces
in the shower tiles that have all
begun to look like me

“the usual flood of dark worries” by Julia on C’s couch

“while the couple works out their troubles without distraction” by Sasha on her couch


Monday June 12, 2017
10:00pm
5 minutes
Committed
Elizabeth Gilbert


Without distraction we take to the winding roads
of the west way up near the sky touching
clouds with our noses way up near the stars
touching ancient dust with our eyelashes

We swim in salt water plunging pools
and my skin gets burned by the sun but
it’s okay it’s okay
it’s okay

You read to me in a whisper
from your secret notebook
the holy grail
and an eagle flies overhead
shadows in the wideness of the wingspan

“while the couple works out their troubles without distraction” by Sasha on her couch

“I’m on my way to Hammerhead” by Julia while walking home


Saturday June 10, 2017
11:49pm
5 minutes
overheard at Pearson Airport
<span style="font-family:Courier New;"
We go for beers and pour our hearts out, leave them on the coasters, then slap our pints down hard
many of us don't know each other's names but names aren't important here
No one seems to be interested in the arbitrary–it takes too long to sieve through anyway
After the first round our blood pumps fine: easier to pass through
leave a mark
After the second the bruises start to show up and we tip the bartender in advance for not kicking us out

“I’m on my way to Hammerhead” by Julia while walking home