“And we’re looking for a few more faces” by Julia on her couch

Thursday December 14, 2017

7:23pm

5 minutes

from an e-mail

Be a seagull swimming with the ducks.

Watch as Little Buddy does not let not being a duck deter her from being with the ducks. Watch as she casually lands amidst the them, plunging, gliding, squeaking. She looks around, not hurting anyone. Not asking for anything. Then slowly she swims closer to them. She joins in, hello, hi, how are you, just another sweet duck here, hello just another regular duck like you, swimming in the pond.

Be a seagull swimming with the ducks. All out of what ifs and better nots.

Maybe we’re waiting for an unlikely friend to be made. A new way of searching for tiny fish to catch.

We’re looking for a few more faces like that. Like the ones who don’t hide theirs to fit in with the others. The ones who risk difference in a pond of same.

“One day you finally knew what you had to do,” by Julia on the 99

Monday December 11

6:54pm

5 minutes

The Journey

Mary Oliver

You decided to wear those jeans. Those light washed jeans with the holes in the knees and the music note above the left pocket. You knew what you needed to do. You always knew. I realized you were serious when you wore those jeans. And I don’t know if I would have been supportive if you had asked me first. I might have told you it was a bit too on the nose. Or maybe infantilizing. Admittedly I’m not the best one to ask for my opinion about jeans. I have been told that my cynicism gets in the way of true happiness. But you didn’t need me to tell you what I thought. You already knew. You were waiting for your insides to know; to match the outside. And when we went into that funeral home and sat down a few rows from the casket, it all added it up anyway.

“The randomness comes from atmospheric noise” by Julia on the 2 bus

Sunday December 10, 2017

6:46pm

5 minutes

random.org

Yesterday I came home and I heard a buzzing. I stopped. I looked around. You had eyes on me like you were worried. Like I was smelling burnt toast. Or listening to satan sing. I swear I heard it. You said you didn’t and that messed me up. You tried to get me to come to the couch and sit near you but I was rhythmically attached elsewhere. When you tried to tell me about your day I didn’t respond. I heard the buzzing and the room shifting on its axis. I was listening the where it was originating from. The television had never buzzed like this before. The floorboards made me suspicious. We’ve been finding a lot of dead spots lately and for a minute it made sense. But in between tuning in and trying not to make you think I had lost my mind, it lost a little bit of strength. I felt sad then. As if I had lost my chance. Or my baby.

“Don’t tell her what?” By Julia on her couch

Sunday December 3, 2017
10:14pm
5 minutes
The Humans
Matt Haig

You’re waiting for me to join you at the table.
You have been hungry since yesterday.
I am busy finding old books with the right message.
“There’s an answer in one of these.” I tell you.
“I don’t think you’re going to find what you’re looking for.” You say.
On the table is a feast and you were sweet enough to go pick it up.
I am hungry too, but maybe not for rice or salmon.
I am hungry for answers. I want to know so many things.
I think that’s why sleeping has been hard.
I keep trying to turn over old concepts in my brain
without getting any new information.
You’re waiting at the table and you do not make me feel bad.
You don’t ask me to hurry up like you usually do.
Eventually we will both have to eat and I will have to wait.
I can’t remember if the message is in a book or in a dream I once had.
I flip through the pages without looking.
I knnow there is some guidance here if I trust it.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“Praying” I say.
“What are you praying for?” You ask.
“For me. For you. For us.” I say.

“Don’t tell her what?” By Sasha on her couch

Sunday December 3, 2017
11:26pm
5 minutes
The Humans
Matt Haig

Don’t sing me that song again
the one where the dress is ripped
and the lipstick is smeared
Don’t look me in the eye again

Baby I know that you’ve got blues in there
I’ve got blues here too
We’ve all got blues
We’ve all got the blues

Met a cowboy in the desert
Said he’d bring me a snakeskin harp
I showed him what was right and wrong
And skinny-dipped in mirages

It’s funny how in the blink of an eye
We’re back in time
Out of rhyme
Missing the fine ecstasy of dumb youth

“younger than before” by Julia in her bed

Saturday December 2, 2017
11:50pm
5 minutes
Place To Be
Nick Drake

The trees held open the door for us today. They asked us to step through, mind the roots.
When we entered, we lifted our heads to the sky, opened our mouths in preparation, and waited to catch a droplet on our tongues. You were close to getting one. I didn’t think the tree would give it up that easily. I couldn’t catch one because I was too busy staring at where they were beginning to form. The droplets fell from the crease of the branches like an armpit or the back of a knee. I suddenly realized how disrespectful it would be to drink someone else’s sweat; something they were trying to get rid of. Something that held the awful truth of them. Our vision got blurry there, as we wept among the openness of it all. The eyes lining the trunks watching our every move, our every step, our every promise. One in particular whispered something to you. When I asked, you said you couldn’t really hear.

“younger than before” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Saturday December 2, 2017
8:16pm
5 minutes
Place To Be
Nick Drake

Jenni gets very irritated when Craig leaves crumbs on the counter. She reminds him that crumbs mean the mice have snacks, but he rolls his eyes. “I’m the one to empty the damn traps, anyway!”

Jenni hates mice. When she was younger, she used to have nightmares that hundreds of them were crawling all over her body and she couldn’t move. When they came to look at this apartment (hard wood floors, big windows, good closet space), Jenni had asked about rodents. The superintendent said that never in his sixteen year history of living in the building had he seen a mouse. They signed the lease right then and there.

“Wild nights-Wild nights!” By Sasha at her desk

Thursday November 30, 2017
5:51pm
5 minutes
Wild nights-Wild nights!
Emily Dickinson

Oh those wild nights when the lemon brews in the heart of the heart and the dreams smell like lilacs and cinnamon. We walk by the water when the moon is full because it’s dangerous if we’re home oh it’s dangerous if walls and a floor and a ceiling have to contain us. Those wild wild nights! We catch dreams with long tongues and we imagine the voices of our children and our grandchildren and our great grandchildren. It’s okay that we’re tired that’s what this time is for – wild night – it’s okay. We mean it when we say that all we have is now. Celery kisses for everyone! WILD!

“Can I ask you somethin?” By Sasha at her desk

Wednesday November 29, 2017
11:16pm
5 minutes
Cities of the Plain
Cormac McCarthy

Can I ask you somethin’? In confidence? Okay so… I feel like Aggie hates me and I don’t want to be paranoid but it really sucks it really really sucks to feel like… She acts like every question is an inconvenience! She doesn’t mind questions from Paul or Tim but when I ask her a question she rolls her damn eyes and makes it seem as though I’m really getting in the way… Now I don’t wanna be a complainer or anything but… I can’t take it anymore because goddamnit I have questions! I’m new! All I have is questions!

“In my head” by Sasha on her couch

Saturday November 25, 2017
8:32pm
5 minutes
Overheard on the 99

Ripped and tunneled by sadness in a new adult way I know heartbreak smells like pennies and tastes like burning. I pull on cut offs and a tank top and walk to the restaurant where I work. It’s home. It’s too public for right now but it’s safe. It’s okay. I pour ceasars and dish eggs benedict and flirt a bit and feel a little bit better. I ride my bike home and cry and cry and cry and cry. Tomorrow I’ll do it all again and the only difference will be that you’ll come in and order a veggie sandwich and I’ll stop feeling so sad and the tunnels will fill with light. You’ll make a joke and it’s a bad one but I’ll love it. The world clouds and clears all at once.

“All I’ve ever learned from love” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Friday November 24, 2017
10:47pm
5 minutes
Hallelujah
Leonard Cohen

Love knocks you around
Especially when you’re young
You throw yourself at every blue eyed Casanova

Love scoops you up
Carries you for awhile
And then drops you
Sound of a cracking egg
Sound of a sizzle
Sound of morning

Love requests nothing
That’s not what you’re used to

Love ruptures
Love rips
Love heals
Love leaks
Love laughs loud
Open mouthed

Love grabs you hard
Hand on the small of your back
You’ve never been touched like this before
You’re breathless putty

“All I’ve ever learned from love” by Julia on N’s couch

Friday November 24, 2017
10:23pm
5 minutes
Hallelujah
Leonard Cohen

Neck ache: you are nestled into the folds of my body.
My body belongs to you during these circuits of heavy breathing.
I am afraid to move now that you’re still.I don’t want to wake you.

Sleeping arm: you need me to hold you in a way that numbs my limbs. My body does what you ask it to. You are sweaty but need to be close. My wrist is hoping that this is enough.

Closed eyes: you keep checking to see if I am with you or faking it. I am here. After you cried I felt bad for dismissing you before. You are not as tough as you look.

Heart strings: you ask me to stay with your sleep whimper. I ask you if you want me to sing to you and you wait a long minute before you answer. Nobody’s ever asked you that before. You don’t know if it will make you feel less alone or more.

“For real people” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Wednesday November 22, 2017
11:22pm
5 minutes
From a storefront

This is for those real real people who pop blackheads and shout at their lover who eat too much salt and chocolate and butter who fuck up and lean in and reach out. This is for those real real people who live amongst dust bunnies and dirty corners and a patch behind the toilet that never gets cleaned. This is for those real real people who watch too much Netflix and drink too much coffee who are always feeling a little bit ill. This is for those real real people who don’t know what they want but try every day to find it maybe it’s love maybe it’s safety maybe it’s a chicken roasting in the oven maybe it’s music maybe it’s fame maybe it’s that all the people around them stop complaining all the fucking time.

“A utopian vision” by Sasha in her bed

Wednesday November 15, 2017
11:47pm
5 minutes
from a quote by bell hooks

“He’s in Kingston Pen with twenty three years left on his sentence. That’s where he is. Now. You have a choice. Are you going to follow in his footsteps? Or, are you going to blaze your own trail – succeeding in your final year of high school, coming in top of your class at George Brown Culinary School? Getting a fine job under a celerity chef at a high-end restaurant? Being promoted to sous within your first year?” Stephen’s voice is booming. Cynthia looks at me. I look at Cynthia. We’ve both stopped worked. We are riveted. We are electrified. Holy EFF STEPHEN YOU ARE A GOD AMONGST US SIMPLE FOLK.

“the sky’s a deep, headstrong blue,” by Sasha at her desk

Saturday November 11, 2017
10:22pm
5 minutes
What The Living Do
Marie Howe

The sky’s a deep, headstrong blue and you’re walking away from me. It’s a big field, as far as we can see. I call after you and you look back and you smile. It’s like you can’t hear the panic in my voice. It’s like you don’t know that you’re leaving. I used to dream about a red-headed monster breaking windows. Now I dream about – … The colour of the sky. It’s there when I close my eyes. Even right now, I can conjure it.

“You are a joke cookie” by Sasha at her desk

Sunday November 5, 2017
11:23pm
5 minutes
From the postcard from Amanda

You, MR. SWANSON, are a joke cake, doughnut, um, loaf, no… cookie. YES! That’s it! You’re a JOKE COOKIE! You may not think that it’s your best attribute, but I do, oh I do. You are most possibly the funniest manager I’ve ever had. NO! You’re the funniest man I’ve ever met! NOW, I know that this might mean that I’ll be in some sort of trouble, but no one appreciates you, MR. SWANSON. In fact! Everyone says terrible things behind your back. “He looks like a turtle,” that kind of thing.

“You are a joke cookie” by Julia on her couch

Sunday November 5, 2017
11:44pm
5 minutes
From the postcard from Amanda

I never meant to run this dry. This many days in a row without even attempting to find the joy behind the keys. And I never understood the power of peripheral vision until now. How have I always been such a tentative typer with this new feature? I am crumbling cookie dry like an over baked chicken over baked chick and I never meant to be. I never meant to fall apart. I have been avoiding some truths to myself and spilling the beans to him.  During the full moon I tell him that I feel like I’m being wasted. He tells me he’s sorry. I have been avoiding. Didn’t want the back ache, the carpal tunnel, the magical erase button. Didn’t want the proof of purchase. So dry the cookie forgets to laugh at itself. So dry the cookie thinks about milk for the first time in years. So dry the cookie asks for help. So dry the cookie tells a joke. Nobody laughs. I never meant to fall apart.

“Your nanny today was” by Sasha on her couch

Friday November 3, 2017
10:15pm
5 minutes
from a receipt

I start in the kitchen. Pantries are my kryptonite. I’m just so interest
I try not to do it, I really really do… But once the kids are asleep and the house is so quiet, I just, I can’t, I just can’t help myself. Do they say that the kid is gluten free and then keep a secret stash of KD? Does the Dad have a private jar of shitty peanut butter? You can learn a lot about someone from searching through someone’s pantry. The health nuts have the craziest stuff… Seventeen dollar boxes of rice, for example. That’s a thing! I don’t eat stuff, unless they offer. But you better believe I look around.

“Your nanny today was” by Julia at S and M’s house

Friday November 3, 2017
10:15pm
5 minutes
from a receipt

Sabryn is smart. Like her mother. Sharp, rather (According to the book Drew Barrymore is quoting). Apparently you’re not supposed to say smart. Or tell your kid that they are. I don’t know why. I’m not a mother. I’m someone’s replacement for the evening. I’m their “older sister” who lets them watch one extra show before bed. I’m the one who tells their mother that they’re smart. So their mother will feel good about her job as someone’s mother. Some have been at it longer than others. I’ve noticed that it doesn’t matter if their kids are one or twelve, mothers want to hear that their kids are smart. Sharp. And I only say it if it’s true. I only tell them anecdotes that will make them love their own offspring more when it is genuine. I’m not in the business of lying to parents about how great their children are. They do enough of that on their own. I simply provide a service in which I keep their kids from killing each other while their parents are at the Guns & Roses concert and maybe teach them the joys of MadLibs.

“tired of having sex only with me” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Tuesday October 31, 2017
10:52pm
5 minutes
A Few Portals
Debbie Urbanski

It’s okay
You say
Brushing my hair out of my face
Can’t stop crying
Won’t stop crying

Joy
Shhh
You say
And I breathe in your smell
Applesauce and bicycle tires

I go into the bathroom
Splash water on my face
Let it run down my neck
You knock on the door

Go away
I say
I will not
You say
I love you
I say

You make us bagels and cream cheese
I don’t want tomato

“The great task in life” by Sasha on her couch

Sunday October 29, 2017
8:19pm
5 minutes
From a quote by Iris Murdoch

Iris stops smoking on her eighty-second birthday because it’s never too late to change a bad habit. It’s wild to out-live almost everyone you know, Iris says to anyone that will listen – the Wheel-Trans driver, the teller at CIBC, her grandson’s boyfriend. She has everyone over for Nanaimo Bars and sherry, and insists that she does not need eight-two candles. Grey kisses her on the nose and says, “I love you Gran.” She scoffs and says,

“I’m not dead yet, boy.”

“It goes on one at a time” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Saturday October 28, 2017
5:41pm
5 minutes
The Low Road
Marge Piercy

Probably should’ve thought it through, you think, swelling hard. You taste last night’s tequila and Doritos. You should never have drunk that much, or eaten all those chips. When you drink, you overeat. That’s what Stu used to say. Fuck you, Stu. You flush the toilet another time, just in case Candice is in there staring at herself in the mirror. If you had a dollar for every time you catch her making a duck face at herself. Holy shit. You should go down to Starbucks and get a coconut water. You’re dehydrated, that’s all.

“It goes on one at a time” by Julia at Peterborough Inns & Suites

Saturday October 28, 2017
12:36pm
5 minutes
The Low Road
Marge Piercy

It goes on one at a time

Defence Wall Window Lock

And the others are free to sleep

The moon is tired of being yelled at with such little purpose and she doesn’t tell anyone where she’s hiding

Let them protect themselves

Let them ask better questions

The night will not be given out for free anymore

Starting now there will be mandates

scrawled in the canopy of the highest tree and the only way to learn them will be to grow

To reach

To notice

Regular standing upright thinking feeling walks into the hardware store and buys all the essentials for building a dream team of proper readiness

The moon does not spill over

“telling about the poem” by Sasha at Bump n’ Grind on Granville

Friday October 27, 2017
4:35pm at Bump n’ Grind
5 minutes
I Was Reading A Poem
David Rutschman

It’s telling when all the poems are about a broken heart
She isn’t knitting any more scarves or sweater for penguins
She isn’t going to miss another opportunity to floss her teeth
Flow chart after flow chart about empathy screenshotted on her iPhone
Isn’t getting her anywhere but deeper down

Irma wishes there was never an earthquake named after her
Makes her feel dry and hot and afraid

Her sister asks if she’s still writing and she says
“Not really”
“That’s non-committal” says her sister and
Irma knows that she’s right but she “Humph’s” and
Returns to her needle-point

“There’s a real market for the ironic stuff on Instagram”
Says Irma
Her sister isn’t listening

“being interviewed” by Julia at Peterborough Inns & Suites

Tuesday October 24, 2017
6:38pm
5 minutes
From a tweet

Ask me whatever you want

I’ve said it before

I’m an open book

you just have to read between the lines

Don’t ask me anything when I’m writing

Or dumping out

I say dumping out instead of taking a sweet shit

I just want to be clear with you

I’m not interested in your nightly rituals

I don’t want to put your mouth in my mouth

So we’re clear

If you ask I will answer

I’ll go above and beyond

out of my way to figure it out so you don’t have to

Wanna know what I’ve been carrying?

Stale bread in the secret pocket of my purse

Just in case they don’t have what I need

A couple packets of raspberry jam

A Mickey of whiskey

Art for someone who loves me enough to buy it

Ask me

about my yesterday

and I will tell you everything

everything

everything

Might not apologize for leaving early

Might not fall down dead at the sound of sorry

Might beg for truth from you

if you’re getting it from me

“She insisted I make no special concession” by Julia at Peterborough Inns & Suites

Wednesday October 25, 2017

3:21am

Swing Low

Miriam Toews

Invited me over for tea and sandwiches

Said the sandwiches are going to be first priority and tea very much second

I didn’t know what that meant

I went over for tea and sandwiches

hoping for a few easy laughs

crusts cut off and tucked away

Opened the door and shushed me upon entry

Said the baby was sleeping

But there is no baby

Led me into the dining room and turned off the light

Turned off all the lights

Sat me down in the middle of the room and asked me all my thoughts on God and grape jelly

The tea didn’t make an appearance at all

The sandwiches might have only been a metaphor

Nobody was allowed to use the toilet

Take escape in the next room over

The only one that had a lock

“being interviewed” by Sasha on the plane

Tuesday October 24, 2017
6:32pm
5 minutes
From a tweet

Miriam closes her eyes and prays. She would never tell anyone that she does this, a few times a day. It’s new for her and she holds new things close, a smooth black rock in her pocket. She would specify though, if she did tell you, that she isn’t praying to God. She prays to the sky, the colour of raspberry jam right now, sprawling wider than she’s ever seen. She wonders if Dad will still be alive when she gets there. She only brought a carry-on, even though she’s unsure how long she’ll stay. However long it takes. “Some things can’t be rushed,” Dad used to say when they’d be waiting for a calf to be born, clutching thermoses of hot peppermint tea, their breath dancing through the icy barn.

“beneficial to anyone” by Sasha at the casita

Monday October 23, 2017
11:21am
5 minutes
From an email

I woke this morning with a heavy feeling
That familiar weight
Brick on chest
Snake in bowels

The dogs were barking
There are so many here
Roaming the side streets with
Nipples almost touching the ground
They’ve had so many pups
They sulk
Open though the alleys and side streets
You wonder where the puppies are

I trust you with my heart now
Something about the temperature
The past month
Has brought us closer to the root
Of it all
To God
To the stars
To the salt water

I rose with a lightness
Because you were there
In your stunning stillness
Hands up by your face

“connected by canals” by Julia on her couch

Thursday October 19, 2017

8:24pm

5 minutes

from the Scuba Diving Pamphlet

In Amsterdam you and Ben took me on G’s brunch boat. We had mimosas. I love that my mom used to babysit you and when we were young we pretended to be power rangers. You have always been blonde and my hair has always had curls. During that rainy October visit I slept on your couch and got lost in Vondel Park after dark. Ben rolled me some weed and we ate the best pancake of my life. The next time I’m in Amsterdam it’ll be for your wedding. I can’t wait to celebrate you and your love. I will tell everyone that I have known you longer than I have known myself. That you and I have lived in the same heart for twenty three years. That you have always been blonde and I’ve always had curls.

“It seems to me an awfully silly thing” by Julia at her desk

Tuesday October 17, 2017

8:47pm

5 minutes

The Mystery of the Blue Train Agatha Christie

I go to pick up his phone right, to go through it and shit? See he’s been pissing me off lately, chuckling to himself, constantly being on his stupid Instagram laughing at god knows whose feed. So I’m like, watch me destroy his life with a click and a swipe and delete delete delete. The first thing that pops up is his alarm. Like why is this interesting, I don’t know, but I’m there. I’m in it. I’m detective what’s his nuts. No, fuck Sherlock, I’m freaking Harriet the spy over here. Anyway I’m like, looking through, like when does this idiot need to wake up? 6:35am? Fine. And then an alarm for 7:35am. Okay. And then one for 8:35am. And 9:35am, like buddy, you’re already late what is the point of all these alarms an hour apart and like, 25 to? So I’m not even on his Instagram and I’m just scrolling and he comes out of the washroom like, what are you doing with my phone? And I’m like, these alarms—and he’s like, uhh uhh you weren’t supposed to see those.

“It seems to me an awfully silly thing” by Sasha at the casita

Tuesday October 17, 2017
11:02am
5 minutes
The Mystery of the Blue Train
Agatha Christie

It seems to Elizabeth an awfully silly thing that Benjamin was allowed to go to the store on his own and she could not. Mother even said that she had better sense of direction than Ben, and that she was better with her allowance money. Elizabeth sulked on the couch, watching Ben walk down the street. She waited for him to turn around and stick his tongue out at her, or make a face, but he did no such thing and merrily rounded the corner onto Harrison Street.

“Have you cleaned your room, darling?” Mother asked, wiping her hands on her purple apron. Mother recently started dying her hair and Elizabeth isn’t used to it yet. Every time she sees her, she gasps. It is three shades darker than her natural colour, Mother reminds her, and hardly something to get dramatic about.

“Show them yourself, your highness” by Julia on the 99

Monday October 16, 2017
10:39pm
5 minutes
from a dream

She opens the door and stands back as she gestures for me to enter. The door is covered in cobwebs. I’m supposed to be impressed? She clears her throat and then starts down the foyer. Her heels are click clacking and I imagine what her tongue looks like when she’s disappointed in someone. I don’t want her to see me looking around so I don’t but I clock everything. Listen for grandfather to signal me the hour. Even time is shrouded in mystery here. She brings me to a tiny room and shows me in. She waits at the door while I put down my bag. I think I’m meant to gasp or cover my mouth in honest surprise. She glares at me with anticipation and I’m still not sure if I’m allowed to speak. Suddenly the door slams shut and she is nowhere to be found. I am acutely aware now that she was waiting for me to leave. The lock thuds in the door. I understand how it looked like I was staying. She sealed the deal for me.

She is giant and bossy and funny as hell.” By Julia on her couch

Saturday October 14, 2017

11:22pm

5 minutes

a text

Kitty tells me to say that that I’m the baby and she’s the mum. I say, I’m the baby and you’re the mum. Then she tells me to say I’m addicted to raisins! I say, do I know what addicted means already? And she tells me to just say it already. I say I’m the baby and you’re the and mum and I’m addicted to raisins. She tells me, okay now say you’re trapped in a lemon peel. And I say oh no I’m the baby and you’re the mum and I’m addicted to raisins and I’m trapped in a lemon peel. Then kitty bursts out laughing. She is laughing so hard she gives herself hiccups. She tries to give direction between giant gulps of air. I tell her to take a second and catch her breath and she tells me to hurry up and be funny. I tell her she’s being a bit bossy and she shrieks at the top of the lungs, THAT’S BECAUSE I’M THE MUM.

“She is giant and bossy and funny as hell.” By Sasha at the casita

Saturday, October 14, 2017
2:10pm
5 minutes
From a text

Darla, you gotta meet her. She’s giant and bossy and funny as hell. When you get her going she will not stop. She will make joke after joke until you really have to say, “Darla, you must be quiet. You must stop talking!” She must be close to six feet, and she’s got the biggest breasts anyone has ever seen. It’s problematic only for those of us that come up to her nipples and have a bard time seeing her face. She has this great bit about how both her parents are half a foot shorter than her, her father being shorter than her mother and how maybe her Mom actually fucked the big friendly giant.

“It was a wild weekend” by Sasha at Casa Violeta

Friday, October 13, 2017
10:16pm
5 minutes
From cnn.com

It was a wild weekend, let me tell you. Alejandra and I went to that unmarked bar, the one that everyone’s been talking about, I mean who knows what the name actually is, not me. Not Ale. We ordered mojitos! They grind the sugarcane juice right there, right in front of you, it’s like, too cool. Ale was flirting pretty hard with the bartender and I was just kind of like, watching that. We drank a few drinks and then we started dancing and it was the best night, totally the best. Ale wanted to go after the bartender told her he’s married, she wanted to leave. I was not ready to leave, but whenever I’m ready to leave someplace and Ale isn’t she’s super nice about it and doesn’t make it seem like I’m being a granny or anything.

a friend, and all around super amazing person” by Sasha at Casa Violeta

Thursday October 12, 2017
7:02am
5 minutes
From the Bunz faceboook page

Hello Edmonton!

Wow. That’s a bit of a weird thing to say but I’m just going to go for it. I just moved to this wonderful city and wow, it’s a bit hard to meet people in the dead of winter. Never really understood that phrase until moving here. LOL. I’m a British guy in my mid twenties. I work in the oil industry (GASP). LOL. Looking for a friend, and all around super amazing person to hang out with, maybe go to the gym (central GoodLife is where I’m signed up right now), movies, beers, whatever. If you’re a female, open to it developing into more, but, not really looking for anything serious. Reach out if you’re cool, chill, fun, and looking for a new friend. Or more. LOL.

“Trying to comprehend” by Sasha at Casa Violeta

Tuesday October 10, 2017
3:47pm
5 minutes
from emmadawn.com

Snaking through the jungle, the buggy bumps so hard that my head hits the ceiling. “Are you okay?” Jose, the driver asks. I nod, but I’m dizzy. I think back to when you climbed into my hospital bed and held me as I wept and wept. “Are you okay?” You said, with one hand on my belly. I wept and wept.

I can hear the ocean when the buggy lurches to a stop. I take a deep breath. “Seniorita?” I smile at Jose. “You are here!”

“I am.”

“Enjoy your stay.”

“Yes.”

“All in your head” by Julia in her bed

Monday October 9, 2017
11:55pm
5 minutes
overheard at the Tim Hortons

Imogen and Harriet are grinding their hips and Imogen likes Harriet and Harriet knows that. The music makes Imogen want more than what she has. Harriet doesn’t want to waste the song. Imogen thinks arching backs and swaying thighs is proof. Harriet wants to be free and enjoy each second because she doesn’t know when she’ll get another one.

The two of them remember this night differently.

“Your name is the strongest” by Sasha in the living room at Black River Farm

Sunday, October 8th, 2017
8:15am
5 minutes
Milk and Honey
Rupi Kaur

I will never tell anyone that I’m here, I whisper as I exit the elevator and walk left, then right, then left. Never ever, cross my heart and swear to die. What an effed up saying. I wonder why we used to say that all the time. If Al knew I was here he would tease me into eternity. Dad would mock me until I wept silently in the bathtub, a bottle of Shiraz cradled in the crook of my arm, never touching my lips, just there. In case. Dr. Noreen Sandhu, is written on the door. Is there a waiting room? Is this just, like, her office? Should I wait outside? Oh my God. What am I doing? Deep breath deep breath DEEP BREATH THIS IS WHY YOU’RE HERE, CLAIRE. THIS IS WHY. I give a very small, basically inaudible knock, just to test the waters. NO answer. Okay. Hm. Okay. I try the door handle and at first it feels locked but then I realize it’s just a very, very heavy door. I push with all my might, after all I have been going to Pilates most Tuesday mornings and my core is getting stronger, I can feel it even if no one can see it. I told Yolanda that my goal was to feel stronger. I don’t care about how things appear on the outside, I’d said. She’d scoffed. Eff her. I am achieving my goal. I am a goal achiever. A GOAL DESTROYER. I AM A GOAL ORIENTED WOMAN. A manifester. “Claire?” The smell of sage, lavender, ylang ylang. Doctor Sandhu, with perfectly chestnut skin, a deliciously large nose, excellent knockers and wearing a turquoise tunic and white tights. Oh my God. “Claire?” She says again, and for once in my life I am speechless.

“Babysat while Christian went to bingo.” By Sasha at Black River Farm

Saturday, October 6th, 2017
8:12am
5 minutes
Adrian Mole: The Wilderness Years
Sue Townsend

When Christian went to bingo, Dominique and I babysat Felix. He would pay us ten dollars each, which at the time we thought was a hundred. Mimi would save hers. Right into her bank account it would go. She couldn’t get there fast enough. Christian had to tell her, repeatedly, that she ought to buy herself something. “It’s okay to spend a little,” he’d say, smiling. I would make lists of what I wanted – the newest YM, a watermelon lipgloss, a journal with a sparkly peacock on the front, a set of fine-tip sharpies, an extra large toblerone bar, my own matte scotch tape, Guatemalan slippers, a mini flatiron… The list would be so long that I wouldn’t be able to choose what I wanted first. Sometimes I’d cry and Mimi would console me. By this time, Felix would be drinking out of the toilet or scratching the wallpaper off the walls in the den and we’d have to call the bingo hall and Christian would have to come home early.

“Vampire bats also appear” by Julia on the 84

Tuesday October 3, 2017
6:52pm
5 minutes
Dust
Charles Pellegrino

Kinney and I are taking her boys trick or treating tomorrow night. They refused to go with Chet and I don’t blame them. He looks like Beetle Juice to me too. K thinks we should dress up as vampires or something. She doesn’t want to go as Mom for Halloween when she goes as Mom for everyday. I’ll wear your clothes and go as you, I tell her. I don’t want to be a bat. Fine, she says her eyes dead in thought, you give me your fishnets and I’ll go as you. I don’t wear those anymore, I say, but Kinney doesn’t care. She’s dreaming up a costume that has less to do with me and more to do with her enacting some fantasy of me. In her mind I’m the fun one. In her mind that means wearing fishnets. I don’t want to burst her bubble.

“Water music” By Sasha at Knowlton Lake

Monday, October 2
6:59pm
5 minutes
Major Orchestral Works
Felix Mendelssohn

I take a bath in the tub where I learned to swim
My sister across from me
Peppermint soap in our ear’s
The hum of our parents voices rising through the floorboards
Fluffy comfort that we don’t know can be broken

I think about writing this
How my appetite’s returned
Words haven’t satiated or helped or healed
But now they can
And they will

I lather my head with shampoo
And fill an old yogurt container with warm water from the tap
I rinse and rinse and rinse
A blue jay sits on the branch right there outside the window
Sings for awhile

There are stains where the drain is
And my love makes dinner downstairs
My parents live in different houses with different loves
My sister rocks her baby to sleep and sings the
Lullaby we heard
Here

“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

“COLD PRESS BRIGHT” by Julia at the studio

Sunday October 1, 2017
6:22pm
5 minutes
from the EPSON box

Cold press bright
button baby button
we are living in pink
hues and baby blues
baby baby will you
want to watch me grow
another human inside
me and then love someone
you’ve never met
but always known
button baby button

Conversation paused
on the problem
Nobody has written down
the plan for us
the three of us
nobody knew there
would be three
unless you knew
without telling me

Bright press cold
button baby baby
witness this magic
of me carrying a
peice of us both
in my body tell
the ocean we are
ready to cross it
all three of us
rock and wave it
all the way to
the shore to save it
baby button baby

Letters written in
father to be cursive
and mamma to be
subversive
you tell the
jokes and I’ll
tell the truth
you tell the
jokes and I’ll
tell the truth
We have not
always wanted you
but you were baby
worth the change
my mind made

“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

“so you can focus on work at that time” by Julia on the seabus

Saturday September 30, 2017

10:17am

5 minutes

from a text

He’s been getting up early to work on his novel. I think there’s a big plot twist that’s been keeping him going. He leaves me in the bed, kisses my shoulder, and closes the door. I’m awake but asleep. I like knowing that words are calling him from slumber into the most awake he’s been in months. Later, he smiles over at me while he types away, croissant in mouth. I am on in the breakfast nook sipping coffee and reading the paper. I smile back.

I get an opportunity to travel across the country for a conference. When I tell him he gives me a confusing look. Bittersweet eyes.

“don’t go” he says, but I can see that he is excited about me being gone. Eliminating distractions is on his list.

“Are you sure you have to?” he tries once more, a dream or the cure rushing across his brow.

“Know this place?” by Julia on Fa Fa’s couch

Friday September 29, 2017

9:12pm

5 minutes

from google maps

There’s a light that keeps switching on by itself. Demi said not to worry about it cause it was just the spirits entering the space (????????). It is bad enough that a light goes on by itself but one that’s delivering ghosts to my living room? No thanks Tom Hanks. Demi has a couple crystals. She says they help. Help what, I don’t know. The light just went out again. If you had to hazard a guess, would you say that means they’ve left or they’ve fallen asleep? I’m referring to the spirits obviously. I don’t know what’s worse that one is coming and going

or many are coming and staying. How many spirits can this place hold anyway? I’m wondering about capacity, like how much can my own spirit handle. How many before I have to call the fire department.

Demi says they won’t bother me unless I invite them to. She did not mention how to avoid doing 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’m driving so couldn’t really see it” by Sasha at Black River Farm

Saturday September 23, 2017
3:39am
5 minutes
from a text

You stand on the edge of a hill.
You take in the vista.
Maybe the sun is rising.

Maybe your mother is somewhere close by
And your sister
And her daughter.

And almost all of the women you love
Gathered around a fire.

A black river rushes close by.

You will marry your love today.
Yes. You will marry your love today.

You tie the sash of your dress and
The sun whispers about the past and the future.
You laugh because you’re unwrapping each minute.
A present.
Presence.

Eighty seven voices sing you into being
Sing you across the threshold.

“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