“a friend, and all around super amazing person” by Julia on the 84

Thursday October 12, 2017
9:44pm
5 minutes
from the bunz faceboook page

I’m

Vouching

For you

Like you deserve it

Like you’ve earned

some kind of love

like this

Thank you

is something you

can say to me

if you’re looking

for words after

all this is over

Thank you

will never get old

I can’t say I’ll

forget that if you

weren’t who you are

I wouldn’t be thinking

twice about helping

you but you’re lucky

I already love you

You get the friend

discount of me not

slapping your ass all

the way to next Tuesday

Some people would

be through with you

Some people would

ask to see your

transcripts

and driving records

“Protect the blood from attack” by Sasha on the deck at Knowlton Lake

Thursday October 5, 2017
7:12am
5 minutes
Chinese Tonic Herbs
Ron Teeguarden

In this quiet stillness of languid morning
Sun on the birches and maples
Dew catching the joke quick
I listen to the silence
She whispers in a language I’m only now just learning
Only will learn fifty years from now
Sixty years from now
A million deaths between now and then

My mother only just spoke
Leaves turning at a snail’s pace
Green to yellow to
How she’s prone to anxiety
Red and brown
Spoke bulemia
When the wind swoops
The echoes cling to the windows
I hush
Spoke silence in a language I’m only now just learning
Thirty six years between us
Somehow less distance
Somehow more

I want to know about the birds that build nests up high
Who are they hiding from
Where do their babies first learn that we are born
Alone and will die alone
Each day an expression of this intrinsicness
Each quiet and still morning
An opportunity to fly deeper
A wingspan promise to try again

“before we found our planet” by Julia at Ocean Island Inn

Wednesday October 4, 2017
11:52pm
5 minutes
The Enemy Stars
Poul Anderson

No chips no fruit snacks no picking your nose in the stairwell
No stepping in dog shit
No touching it thinking it was a leaf attached to some gum
No hopping on one foot around the bathroom while you clean it
while you eat the chips
And the fruit snacks anyway cause whatever about you, this is vacation
No watching a face fall after the body attached to it was two seconds too late
No apologies for being less observant than usual
No maps
No getting lost
No carrying around your thong in your pyjama pockets
No wondering about how your mother pronounces the Pea in pyjamas

“Water music” by Julia on the 84

Monday October 2, 2017

10:03pm

5 minutes

Major Orchestral Works

Felix Mendelssohn

On the night I saw my reflection I was wearing a wolf mask

I looked into the lines of my face

(of the faces that have howled before mine)

And wept for the good me that was left behind

Sorrow mixing with salt

Forgiveness twisted into wave

I opened my throat to give

something that swung

at the pit of me

I did not ask why happiness had been so cruel

I did not beg to be understood

“COLD PRESS BRIGHT” by Sasha in the Kiva

Sunday October 1, 2017
11:32pm
5 minutes
from the EPSON box

I will cold press your brightness like orange juice
We’ll drink it together like moon shine
The Milky Way will guide the walk to the jungle
Where we’ll dance naked with parrots and palms

I will kiss every inch of your hurting
Where you didn’t get enough or got too much
I will love every place where you’re burning
And slow your heart with a lullaby like this

I will give you the goodness that you need now
I will waterfall into the unknowings
I will write poems after hours of loving
And chart futures on the bed sheet tangle

“so you can focus on work at that time” by Sasha in the backyard

Saturday September 30, 2017
3:11pm
5 minutes
From a text

I don’t feel nervous about the hours I’ll work sitting at a desk
Making jokes in the hallway I don’t feel nervous
I’ve never done it like this before and I like that I like that
I’m shaking my bones for a permenance to hold
Cradle like the big blue baby

You dream of raccoons and dolphins
And I’m carving pumpkins
Always pregnant always hungry for meat and bread

Really though we’ll go back and it will be raining
Incessant and calm
Really though we’ll laugh and fuck and wish out loud
We’ll blow out the candle after dinner and you’ll be on the road
And this will be the root
The root will be this

“Know this place?” by Sasha in Mississauga

Friday September 29, 2017
2:40pm
5 minutes
from google maps

He leers and I lurch and we move
And I say
Back off
Step away
Give space

I am my own protector
I am my own
Owning the air between
Old world and new future

The void is thick
But the music is loud
And that helps
That helps

So many faces
From the yesterday seasons
Stepping in time to the drum
I’m tired
And I’m glad

When that snake spoke
I fell but quick quick
I stood and there I was
In and outside of myself
There I was

“I wouldn’t want it any other way” by Sasha at the farm

Friday, September 22, 2017
11:19pm
5 minutes
Overheard at York Mills Station

So many faces
So many hands
So many noses
So many mouths saying
Hello
Congratulations
Look at you
You you you
You look beautiful
You’re glowing

All these faces
The heat heat heart heat
Sip a glass of red wine
Take a deep breath
Love is weightless
Love is anchor
Love is here
Love is

My mother’s sister
Talks to my father’s sister
Talks to your cousin’s son

This is why we chose this

This is the recipe we’ve been writing
Together

“May all that is unlived in you” by Sasha in the Kiva

Tuesday September 19, 2017
10:17pm
5 minutes
To Come Home To Yourself
John O’donahue

May all that is unlived in you
Come to the surface for air
Dolphin breach
Full moon

May you say all that is unsaid
And it doesn’t have to be words
It can be eye contact and just
The right amount of honey in tea

May all that is heavy
Lift
Life and lift are not far off
Just a T for an E

“On the day of our wedding” by Sasha in the Kiva

Monday September 18, 2017
11:31pm
5 minutes
Swing Low
Miriam Toews

On the day of our wedding I will vow to
Be impeccable with my word
Not take things personally
I will vow not to make assumptions
And to choose love choose love
Choose love
Choose
Love
Every day

I will break these vows

We agree that we will
Break these vows

“It’s an aspiration”
You say
On the phone long distance

“It’s an aspiration”
I say
Under my breath
Crossing things off the list

On the day of our wedding
We will stand in a field
Under a blue sky
We will walk with our parents
We will walk alone
We will sweat
We will cry
We will worry that someone is uncomfortable
We will feel grace
We will promise
Honesty
Love
Honor
We will do our best
We will speak vows
We will break
We will kiss
We will vow
I will vow to

Be the one to hold
You
To yourself
To me
To your word
To the supple space
Between now and forever

“Get me the hell off this bus” by Julia on the 99

Saturday September 16, 2017
6:37pm
5 minutes
overheard on the 99

a man with a plant sits beside me
he smashes his book bag into my arm
I almost hit it
he says sorry
I’m like oh my god no worries
I take a second to remember
nothing is personal
because nothing even matters
Hmmmm haaaww Jim Carey Jim Carey
The man with the plant gets off the bus
then a woman with a plant sits beside me
I do not hit her
I don’t want to disturb her Instagram video of her new plants
maybe this video will be her big break
and make her famous
I remember I have plants too
but they’re a bit sunburnt
and I keep forgetting to water them
and maybe if I just made an Instagram video of them on the bus
next to a woman who keeps forgetting to water her plants, I would have my big break too
I can hear everything and nothing
well not nothing
the man behind me gags in my ear
the man beside him laughs

Also, there’s more to life than power, you know.” by Julia on F’s couch

Friday September 15, 2017
9:18pm
5 minutes
Vader’s Little Princess
Jeffrey Brown

lose control
whoosh
like the m-word-f-word wind
and how
trust
whoosh
like the tree does
not ready to blossom, okay, not yet,no rush, no problem, I’ll wait, look at me, I’m fine, one day I’ll be ready, all good, earth’s holding me up, rain’s stored in my guts, okay, no sweat, laid back relaxin all cool
give love
boom
like a cannon shooting as far as the eye can see
can’t see?
no problem, no issue, no need to panic, seeing isn’t everything, not all the time, not now
forgiveness
whoosh
like the m-word-f-word ocean
you wronged me, I’ll come
back, you’re sorry, I know I know
I know

“Also, there’s more to life than power, you know.” By Sasha in her teenage bedroom

Friday, September 15, 2017
12:18am
5 minutes
Vader’s Little Princess
Jeffrey Brown

Sometimes I worry
I worry a lot
Sometimes I worry that
I don’t think more about
Power and who has it and
That it’s a sign of my
Privilege that I don’t
Have to think about
Power

My mother tells me that
She’s worried
That she worries a lot
I come by it honestly
This unrelenting
This unshakable
This courage
This power

It’s hot here and it
Doesn’t smell like salt water
My name is carved in big wood letters
Sat atop stacks of CDs that used to be
My prized possession

I worried less then I think
Or maybe it’s just rose colored glasses nostalgia
Maybe I worried just as much
Just as wide and deep and blue and red

“I could be wrong” by Julia in her bed


Friday September 8, 2017
12:45am
5 minutes
overheard at 16th and Oak

I do not like to be right
whole world can challenge me on that
might think I don’t know how to be wrong
that I won’t stand for it
I am
not
as
strong
as the world might think I am
I still Leave drippings on the burner
I still Set off the fire alarm after asking other hands to be more careful
I still Pee sometimes before pulling down my underwear
I still Find myself wearing my heart on my cheek like a cat scratch
I do not like to be right
oh how the kingdom does fall when I get what I want
and I do not want to be right
there is not enough time in a day to beg for the opposite
nobody gets it
they don’t know how painful it is
how lonely
how sad
Not just about other hands
about who I thought I was
The reckoning tastes a little
too much like an avocado
on its last day in the basket
before becoming
nothing
but
waste

“stomach discomfort” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday September 7, 2017
10:25pm
5 minutes
saje.com

My stomach knew you weren’t to be trusted
I was sick for months with the twisting and turning and writhing
Once I pressed the metal bowl by my bedside to my skin
crawling over it like a slug
the cool pressure relieving all of the things I didn’t know

The more I ached the more I knew that something
was wrong but the older I get the more I know
that when something’s wrong it takes it’s time
and will send the memo when all parties are ready

The last time I saw you was waiting to board a plane
back home

“You waited for me to let you learn” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Wednesday September 6, 2017
5:16pm
5 minutes
Yours Is This
Julia Pileggi


You waited for me to let you learn
slow like a crocus or a grandmother
Slow like I’ve come to know is true
Fast used to whisper to me from under
the bed taunting that I could never
get to where I wanted without moving
FAST
Now I’m wiser or something and I don’t
prize the fast I don’t look on those
bunnies and say
WOW
I wish for that life

“stomach discomfort” by Julia at her desk


Thursday September 7, 2017
8:44pm
5 minutes
saje.com

It does this twisting thing it used to do after running
body’s way of kindly suggesing to stop taking hills like I’m in the army
respect the hill
walk the hill
or to please drink a glass of water today, okay, please?
It feels like birth and like preventing it
it knots me up so nothing feels good
not even breathing
no breathing can make this good
And the moon says it’s almost time
but the moon has never tried to be so in my life about it
there haven’t been warnings before
And in the middle of sleep sex it’s there, twisting
and you are sleep concerned
and I am sleep breathing in the toilet
so that nothing worse happens
like every reminder that I have done this to myself
because I’m the one who wanted the sleep sex
and to avoid the tap
and to run up the hill
and to hide the health card papers behind the TV
because no one ever looks behind the TV
nobody ever finds poetry ideas
or classical music scores
or the lipbalm that looks much better than it smell

“You waited for me to let you learn” by Julia at her desk


Wednsday September 6, 2017
9:21pm
5 minutes
Yours Is This
Julia Pileggi


It feels like I have been here before
in this moment between Mars and Monday
you are here too like a cup of water
or a good pencil
We chose this space and this timeline to wander together
I know your hands less than I should
You will likely forget mine when I die
Of course I can’t pretend that I won’t
All true things have death attached
And still I hope you don’t go first
Unless your body could use the rest
in which case I will keep my arms strong
so I may hold your last breath
the last time your body builds a memory
I will be the softest bed you ever had to leave

“meeting your heart’s longing.” by Julia on the 99


Tuesday September 5, 2017
8:12pm
5 minutes
The Invitation
Oriah


Hello, I say to her
tender teeth and Milky Way.
Hello, hello you humming bird wing
you olive oil drenched skin
you whistling Lilly
I have waited for you.
I have been here being here
and I have been waiting for you.
Hello.
You found me.
Would you like to stay the night?
I have some things I’d like us to do together if you have some time to rest.
I know how far you’ve travelled,
let me rub your sandy feet.
Hello.
She is unlike midnight and yet she sits perfect in the sky.
She glows like she’s been drinking from a river cried by the Moon.

“meeting your heart’s longing.” By Sasha at her desk


Tuesday September 5, 2017
6:11pm
5 minutes
The Invitation
Oriah


Lion’s roar in the morning
and we’re off in these trenches
crawling on arms and my core’s not
strong I know that and you’re tired
and I know that
We’re overtalking but it’s all I’ve got
these pudding words these greys and whites
The smokey sky is ominous
and we bark and we cry and we we we we
We’re ready
you say
We’ve got this
you say
Doubt rains heavy
Faith dances on my fingertips only when
I write
So I do
I write to you
I write a manifesto to my great-granddaughter
I tell her
Trust yourself
The wisdom of your fulfillment is inside you
I tell her
Rise up from the heaviness that’s plagued us
for generations

“Why does having children” by Julia in her bed


Sunday September 3, 2017
11:49pm
5 minutes
Don’t Even Think About It: why our brains are wired to ignore climate change
George Marshall


why does having children have to be the norm anyway
what if I’m not too interested in seeing myself reflected back
oh that’s why you think people have children in the first place
so they get another stab at living
or so they have enough hands to help around the farm
tell me again how me holding someone else’s baby makes you feel
when I come home and tell you that it is so nice to be able to give them back
you know how S says that some people aren’t meant to be drivers
how if you don’t have a real interest in driving then maybe you shouldn’t be on the road and there is nothing wrong with admitting that
it’s preferable to someone who acts like they love driving but then causes several traffic accidents
that’s what it should be like for parents
or whatever you call humans who don’t want to be parents

“you are the first woman I’ve touched” by Julia on the bed at the YWCA hotel Vancouver


Friday September 1, 2017
9:57pm
5 minutes
Pearl in the Mist
V.C. Andrews


In the dream, she is following me with her eyes. Crowded room, music bump bump blaring. Her gaze settles in her face like a perfect egg yolk cooked sunny side up. I feel like I am melting and she keeps herself affixed to me. She is wearing a simple black tank top. But the thinness of her straps are driving me wild. The way they sit grooved into her collarbone. I picture sliding one strap off her shoulder, slowly. She never breaks contact.
Suddenly I am licking her up and down, spreading her knees with my free hand. I am taking my time and sucking slow. She breathes like a goddess. I cannot stop kissing her Soft. In the dream she comes and I keep going. In the dream she kisses me with tongue and doesn’t say a word.

“You said not to read his old texts” by Julia on her couch


Thursday August 31, 2017
11:58pm
5 minutes
From confidential sides

Told yourself you wouldn’t log into his e-mail account.
You put a tally beside your computer and started calling it your sobriety calendar.
Eleven days clean. Haven’t checked it since that fall.
You told yourself that “this is why you don’t snoop through other people’s lives.”
You said “this is why you stop rationalizing all together.”
There are exes marked day after day. You nod, slightly to the fact that you are now an ex marked day by day.
You wonder if his computer will notify him that someone else is in his account.
You worry that he already knows what you’re doing.
You wonder why he doesn’t change his beautiful password.
You wonder why he chose her over you.
You wonder why you eat a tub of peanut butter every three days.

“You said not to read his old texts” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday August 31, 2017
9:24pm
5 minutes
From confidential sides

It starts in the morning
before you’re awake
I creep towards where your phone
is plugged in
Unassuming
Gentle turtle
I don’t know your passcode
but I will
I will learn it
and then I will
I will
read your
emails
texts
missed calls
made calls
listen to your voicemails
I will not listen
to your voicemails
That is an invasion of privacy
That is something only
a monster would do

“drove up to the prison” by Julia at her desk


Wednesday August 30, 2017
11:39pm
5 minutes
This American Life episode 282

can’t stop a freight train
on its way
it knows where it’s going
it goes
and goes
it doesn’t think to break to take
in the scenery
it doesn’t put off gettting to
its destination because there is
something easier to do
nothing is better than arriving
when all you’ve done is travel

can’t stop a freight train
on its way
it carries the load it was meant to
doesn’t complain about the weather
the speed of the tracks
doesn’t beg for something to make it
more fun
doesn’t whine about needing snacks
it definitely doesn’t light the Palo Santo
over and over again until it believes
it doesn’t call its mother on the
phone to ask for directions
it knows where it’s going
it goes

“it was a God that acted through me.” By Sasha on her balcony


Sunday August 27, 2017
12:04pm
5 minutes
Disgrace
J.M. Coetzee


Some days she forgets why she’s trying
why she’s waking and walking and eating and fucking
Some days she only rises to piss and eat a rice cake
over the sink
Some days she lets the phone ring even though she knows
it’s her mother and she misses her mother and she wants
nothing more than to speak to her mother
This is one of those days
This is one of those days
She peels an avocado and bits of green flesh get
on the sheets and shit she didn’t want to make
more of a mess.

“He presses a button” by Julia at her desk


Tuesday August 29, 2017
9:27pm
5 minutes
from VO sides

i watch him from the corner of my eye
he is sly
a man on a mission to push all of my buttons
coming for me like a dart
flying through the air, straight for wherever he aims
did i mention he has great aim?
taught to throw a baseball at the age of three
and now the target is me
i can’t avoid it, it’s the end,
i’m nothing but a machine
when he wants laughter he strikes the soft above my knee
says something unexpected in that charming sort of way
if he wants to knock me over
he hits below
buckle and shake until i make peace with the ground
i am onto him
looking for any kind of reaction
reaching out and teasing with a smirk
hovering right above my button
i am defenseless
yet feeling tension
will he won’t he
no sir yes sir

“it was a god that acted through me.” By Julia at her desk


Sunday August 27, 2017
12:02pm
5 minutes
Disgrace
J.M. Coetzee


I found a home on a shape shifting cloud
hung up my dreams
put away my human skin
You could say that this one is mine now
here all the time
even the angels know my name
When I look down I can see it all
The places I used to burrow into my own flesh
trying to find a tunnel to an alternate reality
the shops I stole from
Candy, jackets, a single tampon
the secret leafy groves where I asked for forgiveness

And without warning I was shooting upward
my body buoyed by the possibility of knowing something sweet

“if everyone else forgets” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday August 24, 2017
6:55pm
5 minutes
From a greeting card

In 1976 it’s the coldest birthday you’ve ever had
February brings hail and relentless freezing
Marg and Bob forget too
and that makes everything colder
Brittle and bone-chilling

You get home from your job
as a teller at the bank
and Bob is in his chair
CBC is on the radio
Marg is hacking at a frozen slab
of pork or at least it looks like pork

“Hey hon,” Marg says not looking up
You feel
tears behind your eyes
at least something’s hot
Your cheeks burn

You go upstairs and close your door
and lament still living with these two
who you’ve sworn to no longer call
mother
father
Marg
Bob
You roll a joint and hang your head out the window
like you’re fourteen again

“Christian Science Reading Room” by Sasha in her bed


Wednesday August 23, 2017
11:46pm
5 minutes
From a storefront on West Broadway

Words are my best lover
knowing when to go slow and move slick
Whisper whisper the sweet fuck
I cradle my notebook like your elbow
the salty spot where your hip is
my lip is I snuggle my pen and
don’t sweat the stain

Words know me and grow me and stretch
the truth of the t-r-u-t-h
of the b-o-d-y
b can oh-nly contain oh oh oh

d is the darkness
is the depth
is the deep

why y y why
a crest
a crescendo
Words, my tonic, my prince, my
oh my

“big comfy chairs” by Sasha at her desk


Monday August 21, 2017
4:36pm
5 minutes
From an email

She’s afraid of dropping the ball so much that she holds
it up above her head at all times and her arms are
achey and tired and the muscle is ripping away from the
bone She’s afraid that they’ll see her open
flayed on the sidewalk next to the black moons of gum
chewed seven years ago chewed by a lover she dreamed about once
She sucks on her hair now that she can
now that it’s grown up
now that it’s grown out
and the edges turn hard
She wonders how long it’s been since she cried
Too long, her mother would say
You need a good cry, she’d say
She’s afraid that if she’s found out to be who she really is
Everyone will play hot potato
with her heart
Passing it round and round the circle
until it’s too hot too fast too fuck oh my God
and she smashes on the asphalt and she’s gone

“If you have troubles” by Sasha in the bath


Thursday August 17, 2017
11:06pm
5 minutes
from an e-flyer

It’s been a long time since I brought my notebook into the bathtub
It’s been a long time since I cried til my eyes bled
It’s been a long time since you told me you loved me
It’s been a long time

It’s been a long time since I took myself out for ice cream
It’s been a long time since I talked to my Mom
It’s been a long time since I laughed til I was red
It’s been a long long time

It’s been a long time since I knew I was certain
It’s been a long time since I sweat through my shirt
It’s been a long time since I saw a bald eagle
It’s been a long long long time

“Back then baby it didn’t seem so strange” by Julia


Wednesday August 16, 2017
10:33pm
5 minutes
Dearly Departed
Shakey Graves


we didn’t use to ask each other anything
shuffled through the corridor with too much heart at stake to risk
we didn’t know what we didn’t know
you thought my favorite colour was blue,might have gotten away with it too if I didn’t walk right on out
it didn’t seem strange when we assumed how each other was feeling
it didn’t seem to bother us too much that all these notebooks were half-filled
now I want to know
I don’t know about you since you don’t know what you don’t know
but I want to ask every question that rolls through mush and makes it out alive
why do you tap your feet like that
why do you forget to book that flight
why do you hate your own eyes so much
why do you lie about how cold your hands get

“packing slip” by Sasha at her desk


Saturday August 12, 2017
10:18pm
5 minutes
A receipt

I open my hands for you and
you put a packing slip there
you skip a packing note there
my hands are empty for you
and now not so empty
you
I open my hands and you
breathe fire I say
it’s okay
it’s okay
and I put that slip
in my back pocket
Never know when you’ve
got a list to write
Never know when you
might be struck by
inspiration

“When there’s peace, it’s too vague” by Sasha on her living room floor


Tuesday August 8, 2017
9:46pm
5 minutes
The Balcony
Jean Genet


I want to impress you
I don’t want you to see my doing it
When there’s peace it’s too vague it’s too far away
Barcelona from Saskatoon
Yellowknife from Johannesburg
I wonder what you’re wearing now that you live south of
the Equator
I wonder if you still wear those aviators
cowboy boots
ripped jeans
I wonder if you’re still carving soap stone into mermaids
Catching babies as a hobby
Spinning wool
I want to impress you
even when you’re not here
even when we haven’t spoken in twelve years
my body floods

“When there’s peace, it’s too vague” by Julia at the studio


Tuesday August 8, 2017
9:16pm
5 minutes
The Balcony
Jean Genet


Of course the peace comes in small bursts
makes you think you’re truly…happy.
It’s enough to keep you from grabbing a lover
by the throat of his jeans
or flying off the handle that was meant for, what, exactly?
Holding on? There is never enough room for
both sanities to grip tightly.
Peace, yes, and then there is sand in the bed,
and bread crumbs leading this way and that.
Quiet, not to be mistaken for calm, comes
in small bursts too.
It is the almost kiss, the almost landing.
A mosquito from the fifth dimenson
haunting you until it plants a message in your ear

“The morning, happy thing” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Saturday August 5, 2017
1:12am
5 minutes
The Complete Poems of Emily Dickenson

The morning, happy thing
dancing puppy dogs in maple syrup
unending stream so coffee and cream
Happy thing you happy happy thing
Musn’t be very smart if you’re happy
right that dumb idiot riding at the
front of the bus talking to the driver
the driver doesn’t want to fucking talk
but talk talk talk is all you do
Must be nice
being happy
Get your head out of your ass happy happy
Ronald McDonald
The morning with your egg mcmuff toast toast
I’m not mad I’m just disappointed
Why aren’t you smiling

“you called me at 5:30, said you couldn’t sleep” by Julia on the 99


Monday August 7, 2017
10:36pm
5 minutes
overheard on the 99

The phone buzzes beside my dreams and I think for a sleep second (which in real life is like, 100 wisps of sand) that you are dying and I am the only one who can love you when you’re dying. I can’t give you money but I can give you that. You want a soft arm to hold when the sky opens up? I can be that for you.
When my body alerts me to wake up (and I always wake up) there is a voicemail from you saying that you can’t sleep. My internal clock knows when it’s time to reach you. It knows 5am like a rock in a shoe.

“I see our history” by Sasha on her balcony


Wednesday August 2, 2017
11:33pm
5 minutes
One Nation, Indivisible in The Sun, August 2017

The moon is orange and my heart breaks
I see my future self and my present self
and it isn’t all what I imagined
A heavy push on a chest
fireflies circle the grief of the
wasteland wasteland wasteland

Fires are raging and the kids
next door play with their boogie boards
on the ash grass
Laughing and screaming and singing
and I watch them from my perch

What will the future be for them
Grey sky
Burn
Chest
Burn
What will the future be for them

“they couldn’t handle you?” by Sasha on her balcony


Friday July 28, 2017
9:15pm
5 minutes
Overheard on Kits beach

I often feel I’m not keeping up
the dust bunnies collect in the corners again
the kitchen floor needs scrubbing again
I explain the rules of writing dialogue to children
but meanwhile break them in the quiet of the solitude

In fifty six days I will be married
this is not an accomplishment
or a humble brag
it is a fact
plain and simple
like my Diva cup sitting in a teacup
of boiling water on the counter

I often look at pictures of women
either pregnant or with
small cinnamon bun children
I wonder what it will be
to roll dough between my hands
and sift genes in my womb
“God willing” I say

Almost husband
my sweetheart
you put a Persian rug on the balcony
you leave plaque on the mirror
you fold my underwear into perfect shapes
you hold me tender and rough

“God willing”

“The wind streaked in from a thousand kilometers of Atlantic” by Sasha on her balcony


Wednesday July 26, 2017
9:18pm
5 minutes
The Enemy Stars
Poul Anderson


I’m riding the waves all the way out to the middle of the sea
I’m not as familliar with the Atlantic but it’s okay it’s okay
Marjorie wrote recipes on her fingertips and then pressed them into my back
A tattoo of butter
of mushrooms
of rain
I manage to hold on even though the wind’s picking up and
don’t be afraid of falling overboard
Don’t be afraid of the best of the worst
Marjorie made me a fried egg for breakfast the morning I left
crispy edges on whole wheat toast

“The Movement project” by Julia at the studio


Thursday July 27, 2017
8:34pm
5 minutes
Sophie Spiridonoff’s artist statement

It all started when I was shocked awake by own heartbeat.
Yeah yeah, you want to hear how that managed to happen, well
get in line. You don’t have to agree with or
understand it, even. It’s more about respect, if I were to
choose something.
I had the urge to talk about the body-the relationship we have
to our legs or to our finger tips; our ingrown hairs
I always get someone like you who guffaws
at the underbelly of emotion. You are not an original
critic. All you haters are the same-you hate yourself
the most. I don’t have hate for my body and you’ve
decided you no longer trust me. It’s not unusual at all,
but it makes a movement impossible.

“blackberry bushes” by Julia in her old room


Thursday July 20, 2017
2:23am
5 minutes
from an email

People have been taking care of me my whole life. I was lucky. I got a good sister. One who sees me, needs me, shows up brings her friends, laughs at my jokes, heart beat frees me. And I got lucky still. With a good brother who calls me and carries me and picks me up at the airport and takes me to and from the beginning and to and from the end. And then I didn’t have to worry. Because my mother’s skin sings olive oil and resilience. And my father fries me up an egg with a zucchini flower and tops the plate with garden tomatoes and hugs me long and tight.

“I will complete them upon my return” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Monday July 17, 2017
11:17pm
5 minutes
From an email

I’m not sure how to tell you this
I’m not sure about much actually
I’m questioning all of my choices
my vices
my fears
so big so big
Oh
I’m not sure how to tell you this
When I get back I’m gonna head out
on my own for a while
Gotta find the rhythm of the grind again
Gotta find the direction of the sun again
I’m not sure how to tell you
that when I swam in those big waves
I saw
G-O-D
and it wasn’t in the shape of a
face or a torso
it was in the shapelessness of a
blue blue white aquamarine
movement

“My unexpressed anger at nothing in particular.” By Sasha on her couch


Saturday July 15, 2017
10:33pm
5 minutes
No one belongs here more than you
Miranda July


I make an appointment with the chaos
and then I’m late
and sweaty
and I have the lines from
an ill-fitting bicycle helmet
on my forehead
“It’s not a good look”
I whisper

I’m pregnant with a tadpole
and it’s little tad tail
hangs out of me sometimes

There’s a lot of unknowns
and I bought a postcard
that said
QUESTION AUTHORITY
and then I never did

When your body looks like mine
and when it swells and wanes
and waxes and bleeds and grows
and falls and gives and gives
Sometimes men pretend that
they are not looking
and sometimes they just
look like they are gulping
with their eyeballs
glug glug

“change of plans” by Julia on F’s couch


Wednesday July 5, 2017
9:23pm
5 minutes
From an email

Change of plans, I don’t love you anymore.
Pack the tiny cooler bag your aunt gave us before we rode our broken car all the way to Saskatoon.
Find yourself a couple of crackers
to eat on the way.
I wanted it to be you.
You are not the only one disappointed here.

Change of plans, I don’t love you anymore.
Take your collection of
play things
all the broken bobby pins
you didn’t ask to break
the pen lids, all twisted
into useless
the cloud of sugar lint
in your pants pockets.

“choosing sides” by Sasha on her balcony


Tuesday July 4, 2017
10:15pm
5 minutes
Walsh
Sharon Pollock

At the time I didn’t think I chose a side.
How could I,

but now,

twenty five years later,

(writing that makes me feel something wide)

I realize the tent of a womb
is never far from the heart of a daughter.

I’ve always believed myself to be

all fair

sense of right and wrong right on the
tip of my tongue
my spirit soaring fire and water
in equal measure.

Maybe it’s the confusion of a young
pup,

circling Mom’s legs

caught locked out

in a downpour.

“high clouds no wind” by Sasha on her balcony


Saturday July 1, 2017
11:30pm
5 minutes
The Wayfinders
Wade Davis

the woman who lives across the way
my balcony doors look into her living room
she watches so much tv and i am sad about it

she recently bought a rosemary plant
a cactus with a pink flower
and a rose that has beautiful flowers
they are still in their plastic

i am trying to see what she’s watching
is it FRIENDS
i am trying to see into her darkness

a hummingbird comes to drink from our feeder
sucking back the sugar water with her
extra long tongue

high and mighty with my notebook
looking up and through and into
this sister dwelling

“Songs Of Protest” by Julia at her desk


Sunday July 2, 2017
9:30pm
5 minutes
Singing in Dark Times-a Manual for Encoding Dissent
Bhaswati Ghosh


The group of people and all their bikes taking up 3 logs at the beach
sitting in front of us and to the left
playing their casual yet persistant tunes
entitled to so much sand and sky
and then a duo of cropped halter
bikes, a bike radio, elevator soft and poisonous
scoff at the group of people and their volume
One of us says
You snooze you lose
The first assholes are always the best assholes
They get priority, first to breach the code
None of us move our sandied feet
roll our eyes at the middle place we find ourselves in
too caught up with space and how much we take in public
wishing we could all untie our tongues from the backs of our heads

“high clouds no wind” by Julia in her bed


Saturday July 1, 2017
11:44pm
5 minutes
The Wayfinders
Wade Davis

no wind reminds me of the Titanic
no wind, no rain, clear skies, unsinkable ship
we know we cannot fight the elements with human tools,
these sticky sandwich hands
why do we try so hard to be destroyers
what business do we think we’re
entitled to here?

The fireworks were visible from our balcony so we stayed inside
we didn’t need to leave our room to enjoy the experience.
Must have been quite the party with so many rockets launched.