“Her bigness sweeps my being” by Sasha in the bedroom

Thursday June 18, 2020
1:02pm
5 minutes
America
Claude McKay

Supple in her sweeping she walks in to rooms and people
Notice the broadness of her shoulders or maybe
it’s just her command
Her gaze is chestnut and pride
A few nights sleeping under a bridge when you’re seventeen and
High on meth
And your gaze changes for
Ever

June calls for brightly coloured beads and Slurpees spiked with vodka
Drum and bass sweaty thighs sticking to garden chairs
Ice cubes melting in bellybuttons
Asking for what she actually wants for once in her life for
Once in her fucking
Dream she is the real versioning vision of who she knows herself to be

When she turned forty
She promised to forget about all the assholes who took her for granted
She’s wasted so many hours with a clenched jaw
Focus on the love her cat gives her in the morning
Paws pressing into her forehead
Nails flirting with a scratch
Her cat saves her life and she never thought she’d be someone
To say that

Always hated when people spoke of cats in such a way

She turns up CBC radio
Opens a window
Picks up Rocco
Pats his calico head and picks gunk out of the corner of his eyes
She’ll make waffles for breakfast

Because it’s June 18th
Because it’s Thursday
Because she’s here and she slept decently well last night and she doesn’t feel the growl of an unanswerable question in her elbows

“turns up the heat” by Julia in Nicole’s bed

Thursday December 21, 2017
12:09am
5 minutes
a flyer from The Cultch

Her room, she says, is too cold to sleep in. Except when he’s here and he’s furnace and he’s dripping sweat in her sheets. I ask if I can turn the oven on tomorrow. She says it might blow up the whole place and better to put on a better sweater. I have a better sweater now. It was the only thing I told myself I’d bring and then I packed too many what ifs and accidentally forgot to leave some things behind. I forgot that I told myself I wouldn’t smoke so much.
She says we’ll have to make sure to look out the window. When I ask if there’s a meteor shower she doesn’t laugh. She says 10 somethings of snow will be falling tonight. I don’t remember the measure of snow she used. It wasn’t what you would have expected. He’s not coming by to warm the bed. She says I won’t be meeting him until tomorrow.

“preceded by chaos” by Sasha on her couch


Monday November 7, 2016
10:56pm
5 minutes
From a tweet

This is the war cry that you’ve been waiting for
It isn’t packaged in hand blown glass or bubble wrap
It isn’t dusted in icing sugar
This is a roar seven generations in the making
It’s messy and delicate and has a bad haircut
It spits and sputters and sighs low like a dog
It sings full voice when it’s favourite song
comes on the radio OH
This is the war cry that has haunted dreams and
subway cars haunted holidays and shopping centres
Wake up, it calls
Wake up

“don’t get it in your eyeball!” By Sasha on the bus


Tuesday October 25, 2016
11:21am
5 minutes
From a text

The voices start quietly, slurring into my vision, tripping my feet over pavement cracks. I don’t say shit to them but they go on and on, taunting and daring. I can’t even count how many there are any more and I’m not going to tell Kelly because there’s no way he’ll understand the migraines or the pebbles in my pockets. Got to make sure I start doing my own laundry, leaving the windows open. Got to get a new prescription, is what he’ll say, but he’s wrong as Christmas.

“Anytime, night or day” by Sasha on her living room floor


Saturday May 28, 2016
11:19pm
5 minutes
All I Have To Do Is Dream
The Everly Brothers


You never imagined that someone would say, “anytime, night or day, you can call me,” breaking their rule of keeping a cellphone on their bedside table, you never imagined that someone might love you like buttered bagels and a slender moon.

You never imagined that someone might press on your hip bones and remind you that you’re as ancient as stardust as new as the dawn as changing as the late may sky all aglow with a tempest like a thirtieth birthday.

You never imagined that someone would write you love poems and lick the tears from your face as you read them.

“the way you would like them to appear” by Sasha on her couch


Tuesday March 22, 2016
11:43pm
5 minutes
On the artist program guide site

We met when I was damp with summer between
my temples the handlebars of my bike luring
in all the strays
We met when I drank too much tequila and ate
onion rings at the diner where the man promised
they weren’t fried in the same oil
as the chicken fingers
We met when I glued eyelashes to my lids even
though I’ve always gotten compliments on the
ones that are already there
We met when I was mixed up with things I
didn’t know the consequences of unsafe
sex in bathroom stalls and blowjobs on
counters of restaurants where you julienned
the perfect carrots

“Maybe we shouldn’t” by Sasha at Szos’ desk in Cowichan Bay


Saturday November 21, 2015
4:13pm
5 minutes
Overheard at the Eastside Culture Crawl

I keep replaying the moment before, like that cat food jingle no one can get out of their heads.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” you say. “What if it hurts?”

I don’t feel fear like you do, as a “golf ball in your throat, covered in thorns”.

I jump first. I’m a more experienced swimmer. I promise you I’ll be fine but we make the plan that if I don’t bob up within a few minutes you should call 911.

The water is colder than hell. It shakes me into oblivion. It’s better than coke. I bob up and I scream, “Jump! Jump!”

You say that you’re scared and I reassure you that it’s deep, that it’s safe, that you’ll be fine.

“I might be” by Julia on Jessica’s couch


Monday January 19, 2015
8:40am
5 minutes
from a poster in Ricardo’s studio

I might be lost
I might be confused
I might be hurt
I might be sad
I might be broken open
I might be letting in the everything
I might be too naked
I might be too analytical
I might be too exposed
I might be getting infections
I might be growing
I might be expanding
I might be learning
I might be transforming
I might be forlorn
I might be overflowing
I might be expressing
I might be adjusting
I might be returning
I might be reliving
I might be remembering
I might be better
I might be worse
I might be stuck in my body
I might be breaking free of my old skin
I might be making assumptions
I might be transcending the space between oceans
I might be self actualizing
I might be developing a new form to exist in with a tougher shell
I might be more prepared now
I might be home

“When did we leave for thing there?” By Julia on Jessica’s couch


Sunday January 18, 2015
12:47am
5 minutes
Overheard at Julia’s aunt’s house

Okay so there was this trip, right? We went together to thing there, what was it called? The Dominican! Never mind. We went with what’s his name, John there, and it was nice that he came with us because now we have photos together. We were on the dance floor one night just letting lose, and the next day he um, John, he shows us the whole night of us dancing and eating that good pasta there, you know at the nice italian place I was telling you about. So nice, I gotta tell you right, cause I didn’t know he was snapping away the whole time and capturing us, what’s that word there, candid! He captured us together all candid and they’re nice because I also have some of us standing by the fountain, but we both know it’s a photo and our smiles look bad. But the ones thing there took, John, look so nice and we look happy. It’s always better to have a friend come on your vacation so you can remember how happy you actually are.

“Start a group play team” by Julia at her parents’ kitchen table


Saturday January 17, 2015
11:32am
5 minutes
from a lotto 649 ticket

We’ve got a good team
We fight the bad guys and we cuddle a lot
We make jokes about the mean ones and we tap forks before we eat
We make sure no negativity gets in and we play catch in the park outside our house
We build barriers so no harm can enter and we kiss like two puzzle pieces that were meant to complete the other
We don’t leave the bedroom cause it’s safer inside and we double dip our honey hands into the bag of liquorish chews
We’ve got a good team
We laugh and we live and we squeeze and we breathe
We do it together and no one can stop us
We do it together cause we know winning is really only happiness and happiness is winning

“Feathers and flowers” by Julia on her parents’ couch


Friday January 16, 2015
5:19pm
5 minutes
from a 2015 calendar

He got me a necklace with a feather on it. It was really pretty and made my eyes stand out. That was the first thing he ever bought me like that. I remember him saying once that he just wanted to spoil me but not with gifts or clothes or jewelry…But with touching and love and food and laughter. Probably because he really wouldn’t know where to start if he were buying me jewelry. And it made me happy to know that he knew me enough to give me what I needed and not what he thought I wanted. The feather necklace was beautiful because I was never expecting him to gift me something tangible in the form of something beautiful. My expectations for love are high. He promised me that. Now I want it forever.

“made with real almonds” by Julia at Amanda’s kitchen counter


Thursday January 15, 2015
2:29pm
5 minutes
from the Earth’s Own Almond Milk carton

So my brother got sick once and turned into the kind of guy who reads labels and won’t put anything into his body without a reason. Like a good solid reason, like “fixing” “helping” “improving” “nourishing”.
All of these things are fine and I’m happy he does it cause he should do it. But I just got so bored about discussing this with you that I literally fell asleep for one minute there. I just went off to a distant land. And now I remember what we were talking about and I totally see why. The “point” is, sickness=health for some people and some people=boring life because of it. The “point” I was trying to make, was that you’ll be fine. You might even be better than you are now. But you have to start reading labels and being okay with not telling any more good stories.

“laugh-out-loud funny.” By Julia on Amanda’s couch


Wednesday January 14, 2015
3:51pm
5 minutes
From the i ❤️huckabees DVD case

Come on tell me a joke.
Well what do you want, funny ha ha, or funny, ah-hah!
I don’t know the difference. They’re the same, both funny.
No, one will bring laughs, the other, realizations! In a moment you could be like, “ohhhh righhhhht” or “ha ha ha ha”.
You’re ruining jokes for me. You’ve just put a structure on humour.
You asked me to.
No, I asked you to tell a joke and you just reduced it to types and shit.
I’m trying to please you.
I just wanted to hear a joke you thought was funny.
I don’t know any good jokes.
Well say that then. Don’t say, which type of moment are you trying to have, a good one, or a seemingly less good one. Who would choose the seemingly less good one.
It’s not less good, it’s about preference.
If I preferred the type of laughter I was going to have I would just type it into the internet.
There you go ruining a perfectly good human moment.
Ha ha!
Really?

“Walking and talking” by Julia on Amanda’s couch


Tuesday January 13, 2015
10:44pm
5 minutes
Brave New World
Aldous Huxley


Sometimes you feel your bones rattling in their cage when you walk down the sidewalk and your boots make a heavy thud on the pavement
You ask them questions like who is the biggest, what would you want your last meal to be, who is your favourite spice girl, and what are your hypothetical concerns about global warming
They don’t respond with words, but music, cling clanging, crash banging, humming the tune of yesterday, harmonizing with all the right underground quietness
You feel them getting the urge to dance with their hope and their musicianship trying to free you with their freedom