“ballet was fucking therapy” by Julia on the GO bus

Wednesday May 1, 2019
5:54pm
5 minutes
from a text

She dances, He dances, it’s beautiful
It’s the kitchen, the bedroom, the bathroom on Sundays
He scoops her up and he dips her low
He sways her, she opens him, they let the music butter them smooth
She is slipping
He is slipping
This was never meant to happen
This was never meant to happen
This was never meant to happen
The song is low, or it’s stopped now
The radio is playing static fuzz and calling it sweet
The attic is no longer haunted
The floorboards are no longer empty
The tulips all died with their mouths wide open
screaming, begging
The corners are dusty
another couple moves in and buries the noise
The static fuzz is lingering in the attic
The attic is no longer haunted
she danced
he danced

“The healthiest things” by Julia at Gertrude Park


Friday July 25, 2014
11:09am
5 minutes
Food Rules
Michael Pollan


Darlin’ I’m slippin’. I’ve been feelin’ off these days, you know? Can’t help myself from makin’ tiny trips to the garage. I hid all kinds of bottles in there, cause you know your mother, she was always all over me for bein’ thirsty. One, you know, I don’t know how I did it, but I found it way up on the top shelf there right by the trophies. Almost fell right off, I had to climb so high. And I brought that one down, and it took me a minute, but by the time I got my footin’ I noticed it was actually empty. Why I was keepin’ an empty bottle so out of reach is beyond me, but that’s the problem. If I don’t even remember why I was hidin’ certain things, then maybe I also have more than I thought. More bottles on top shelves. More uncovered memories I at some point in my life tried very hard to bury. But guess what the truth is. I haven’t once had a sip yet. I’ve been starin’ at those bottles but that doesn’t mean I’ve been hittin’ them. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to though..