“a conversation unfolds” by Julia on the 4

Sunday, December 2, 2018
4:34pm
5 minutes
Conversation Across Languages
Derick Mattern

We’re talking a lot
It’s good
I’m grateful
You’re sad
The space between us
is nothing and
everything
We have always
operated under
extreme circumstance
Big or invisible
Madness or dark
You’ve asked the
hard questions
and I wonder if
I have lied in answering
I promised you I’d
be honest but nothing
is everything and
it can get a little
confusing
The conversation
is ongoing and some
days the words do
all the talking and
some days the belly-
The snail inside the
belly unwinding and
folding back in on
itself

“And we never talked about that.” by Julia on her couch

Friday August 31, 2018
11:38pm
5 minutes
A Love Letter To Lost Sisters
Hywel Tuscano

we never talked about the way he mishandled me and the way I let him. we never talked about how it was weird he didn’t mention that we’d be sharing his bed. we never talked about how early he wakes up and how late he’s banging around for. not about how I was feeling about my stuff. not about how I was feeling about him. we never talked about how he kept using my towel and saying he wasn’t. we never talked about the fruit rotting in the car. we never talked about the lines he crossed or tried to. the ones we both said we’d be mindful of. we never talked about how many times he told me the same story. how many times he’d break the pattern of the room by injecting a silly pun.

“And we never talked about that.” By Sasha on her couch

Friday August 31, 2018
12:02pm
5 minutes
A Love Letter To Lost Sisters
Hywel Tuscano

We never talked about how it was that you came to be so full of crimson temptation and peaked righteousness. It just appeared, somewhat like you did, sat across from me on the train. We never talked about it because I thought that to love you I had to endure (that’s another story) and that unconditional means forgive forgive forgive.

We started speaking less altogether, just a grunt or a thank you or a goodnight. It happened slowly, as many things do – corrosion, erosion, rustt, growth.

“Semi-bush vines, very sweet,” by Julia on her parents’couch


Monday December 26, 2016
2:02am
5 minutes
from an old tag

I was waiting for the perfect lull of eventual inhale that my mother would have to take before continuing on in her way about the planters and the balcony hangers. She always got so excited about the possibility of me becoming more self-sufficient in a way that no one would have thought twice about when she was my age. I didn’t exactly have the heart to tell her hat I didn’t have a green thumb or possibly any thumb and this would all be a moot point. She was too busy telling me I could do basil and parsley or tomatoes even, because then I could “at least make a proper sugo.” What I really wanted was for her to stop talking long enough for me to tell her about the poem that had just gotten accepted into a Canadian anthology. Maybe she would be excited that I managed to make some kind of art..or maybe she would think it didn’t matter if it couldn’t be added to an eggplant parmigiana.

“hello sacred fire” by Sasha in the Kiva at Macdonell


Monday December 19, 2016
5:04pm
5 minutes
Hello Sacred Life
Kim Krans


The clock’s talking. Keeps telling Amy that time is running out. Tells her to “go faster” and “slow down”, too, but less often. She takes the one on the wall by the piano and puts it in the recycling. Two hours later, sat at her desk doing the inventory that should’ve been done yesterday, she wonders if you can recycle a clock. She puts it in the garbage. The one on the stove is a real fucking issue. She went at it with the hammer around lunchtime. Just the clock part. It bugs her when she’s cooking, especially starches like potatoes or rice. Pasta is the worst. “I’m running out…” it whispers, and she’s not sure if it’s inside her head or out, but then the mouth on the 1:14 starts frowning and it’s all over. Pete asks if she’s been taking her meds and she says she’s not really sure, but since starting to work from home things have been getting better. A whole lot better. Pete nods and eats his meatloaf.

“Let’s have a toast to our goodbyes” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Thursday, January 14, 2016
10:47pm
5 minutes
I’m Out
Ciara feat. Nicki Minaj


“You’re what?”

“We’re consciously uncoupling.”

“I don’t get it.”

“We’re separating, consciously. With intention and love.”

“Why?”

“It’s just not working and we both want to move on with our lives…”

“Whose idea was this?”

“Gwyneth Paltrow.”

“WHAT?”

“Oh… You mean – ”

“Was it your or Laurel’s idea?”

“Both…”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Ann hasn’t spoken to anyone for a month” by Julia on the overground


Sunday December 28, 2014
4:29pm
5 minutes
rom an AgeUK overground ad /em>


Oh it’s not personal, Lizzie, she doesn’t talk to anyone anymore. She’s always been a quiet girl and that’s nothing against you, okay? You’ve got to get good at not taking her behaviour as an attack on you. She doesn’t even realize it upsets you so she’s not doing it on purpose. Before was different, I’m aware of that. She would give you more room to play and joke and she wouldn’t push you away. But sometimes these things happen. You know what you could do? You could write her a nice letter. Tell her all the things you want and then just let her read it on her own time. That way if she wants to respond, she has your example letter right in front of her. It sort of gives her permission to communicate in a way that she probably hasn’t thought about.

“I’ve breathed the mountain air” by Sasha on her couch


Tuesday, July 22, 2014
11:42pm
5 minutes
I’ve Been Everywhere
Hank Snow



Let me start by saying, I’m terrible at this kind of thing. I’m terrible at saying what I mean and meaning what I say and… You’re the one that’s good with words. You’re the one who knows how to put thoughts together like a… shopping list. No – … I mean… When your mother left I wasn’t sure where my own damn bellybutton was. I wasn’t sure how to brush my teeth, or make a salami sandwich. I let you down, Tilly. I know I did. I’m – … I’m sorry.

“80-minute discussion” by Julia at her kitchen table


Wednesday, July 3, 2013
11:28pm
5 minutes
http://www.teamcoco.com

I can hear them all the way from Vancouver talking about me under the covers and confessing they never really liked that thing I did with my wrist at parties because it was too rooted in shock value to actually be positive.
I can hear them all the way from Italy, 6 hours ahead, while they hand make the gnocchi for the grilliata tomorrow, discussing how if I could just learn to let go everything would be better for me. I’d look prettier. I’d be nicer to be around.
I can hear them all the way from Cape Breton, sitting outside on their bug-infested porch,talking about how first impressions are hard to undo. How long showers and long hairs left in the drain mean something more than someone who just likes to let the water run too long.
I can hear them all the way from Ottawa, as they watch the news, talking about how my act only works on an audience and they hope for my sake the crowd never stops coming to see me. That if I just stopped for a second to be real, the walls would come down instead of being built on top of each other.
I can hear them all the way from Lucan saying that I never came back to visit because I didn’t know how to find my way back home. They talk about the one and only time I came back but didn’t stay because I no longer fit in there.