“The vast majority of people don’t want to do anything physical” by Julia on the 4

Wednesday July 17, 2019
5:16pm
5 minutes
Overhead on the 4

People this and people that and man I’m with you but then again no I am not

I was with you a year ago
Everything I was a year ago was with you

I wanted to bitch and moan about anything I could wrap my tongue around

I wanted to hate everyone and everything because that made it easier to accept that I wasn’t going to be perfect either

The opposite, really

I wasn’t willing to accept myself in any shape or form so who got my shit talking?

The girl in the alley with her shorts riding her butt crack all the way to next Thursday

The guy bringing his yippy dog into the glasses shoppe and refusing to remove him

The baby crying on the plane

I don’t feel good about that last one but it’s the truth, alright, and that’s something worth clinging too

Nobody can drive
Nobody listens
Nobody cares about their bodies these days
All generalization and no examination
All avoidance and no allowance
All them them them against me me me

But I was against me by being against them

These are things I’ve learned

“I do love his quips.” By Julia on her couch

Monday July 15, 2019
10:05pm
5 minutes
A Working Theory Of Love
Scott Hutchins

Réal makes dinner
for June at 9:30pm
It is too late to eat
but he says it’s
because he’s
European and it’s
true but also a bit
of a challenge
June used to eat
at 5pm before Réal
walked into her life
wearing an apron
and a smart watch
He says the best
things happen at
night and to him
that means sex
and food and wine
and massage
June likes all of
those things so
she is happy to
have them even if
she still hasn’t
gotten to bed
before midnight
since she met
Réal two months
ago

“special pings” by Julia on her patio

Sunday July 14, 2019
6:50pm
5 minutes
Tinnitus
Emily Osborne

High as a kite and no plans of coming down
Down is the place where all the dirt lives
The down and dirty, the hole, the pit
I’m going to fly high right over this town
Town is a place where all the small people
get together and wage wars against any one
who seems like they have finally learned to
love themselves

They don’t know anything about us
They don’t know anything about us

And oh what a war it already was, the lonely
people all huddled together with their ideas
and their weapons because the truth feels like
too much to fight
Oh the light, that glittering thing illuminating
all the inside from the bottom of the barrel
sending them a mirror to see themselves clearer

High as a kite and it could be on life itself
or life alone and you would never even know
think it’s a strain or a pill or a potted plant
a cheap kind of thrill that leaves the seeking
emptier than when they started

They don’t know anything about us
They don’t know anything about us

They could come if they wanted to but they don’t

They don’t know anything about us

“your teeth glint” by Julia on her patio

Saturday July 13, 2019
10:16pm
5 minutes
Next Time
Lucy Yang

In the moonlight I can see
your perfect teeth aglow
like chicklets

your perfect lips hold your chicklet teeth and you can do no wrong

I won’t tell you the story of my teeth and how the braces ruined everythig

this is about you and that million dollar smile that didn’t require any help

It’s dark but it is you and the moon that I can follow so I don’t hit a tree

You’re the one guiding me forward without knowing how powerful your mouth is

I don’t tell you about my teeth because surely they didn’t save any lives

Not the kind that get punched out by troubled kids or smashed by a moving car

“Forced Kate to go to karaoke” by Julia on L’s couch

Friday July 12, 2019
11:06pm
5 minutes
From www.grubstreet.com 

Kate doesn’t want to sing so she stays quiet
This is her usual approach

inside she knows it is because she just isn’t brave enough to try but
no one else has to know

she feigned being sick at Brett’s birthday party when Alistair suggested they go to karaoke after everyone had already gathered for dinner at Bar Nuovo

she also uses her phone as a distraction whenever possible: texts, pretend phone calls, “emergencies” or better known as “friends in crisis”

“contact the storage directly” by Julia at her desk

Thursday, July 11, 2019
4:32pm
5 minutes
From the Secure Storage website

In my dream you were there as if
it hadn’t been 4 years of silence
When our other friends left the room
I looked at you, still there, shrugging
Was this night more awkward because you
and I haven’t talked anything out yet?
You wait to answer because the answer
is yes but you are there waiting for me
I didn’t know if you wanted to talk…
And now it is my turn to wait, to ask
myself, floating above my body if, maybe,
I do

Things are said but mostly not and
by the end of the scene we are hugging
deeply and I have said I love you again
and you have cried and said I love you back

You didn’t look the same and your calm
was foreign to me from what I remember and
yet I knew it was you there, wondering if
anything is possible the way they say it is

I gave you my answer and then I woke up,
glad that in the dream, after drawing the
card of Mercy, I could see what that might
look like even if no real action
had yet been taken

“contact the storage directly” by Sasha at her desk

Thursday, July 11, 2019
10:14am
5 minutes
From the Secure Storage website

I wonder if a time will come when
we do away with all the past hurt
stored in boxes in the closet
stacked one on top of the other
amidst the cleaning stuff and the
cans of black beans and chickpeas
paprika from Hungary
oats in a paper bag

I wonder when you will not be tight
and I will not be sorry

what will be between us then
the lightness and dust of these corners
a decade of daisy chain evolution
some flowers losing their bright
some gaining new growth
measured in commas and almost finished
stories measured in scratches
measured in letting go

I wonder what will come of this
and where you’ll put your righteousness down
what will be born of the true new

who will you allow me to be
in your paper doll cut out clothes
of not quite enough
torn at the places where you
stick them to my body
pin the tail on the woman
doing her best

“shattered in a thousand pieces” by Julia on the 4

Wednesday, July 10, 2019
5:23pm
Sing to the Moon
Laura Mvula

I am not, if you thought maybe I might be. I think you think I already checked out, but I hadn’t.
I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Saying the wrong thing has resulted in lashings before. Still have the scar of where you wielded the silent treatment.

I don’t have anger now and before if it seemed it, that was hurt wearing a little mask. A Little armour.

I knew you were done but I didn’t know it would come like this. I have an intuition about you and that might be because it’s been years, or because I’m listening to what you don’t say. You might be surprised to learn of how much I’m capable of. Change is the first thing. I’m glad you’ve come around to that.

“Taking a trip?” By Julia on her couch

Tuesday July 9, 2019
8:55pm
5 minutes
From a TD Bank envelope

some days I don’t have the space to dream about the future.
I try to be here and now and in it all very deeply.
some days I come home and you’ve been planning your next trip. you want me to join you but you also want to spend time with yourself.
how will I know what I want to do in october when I don’t even know what I will want to wear tomorrow?

you tell me we could leave for a month and then soon after I consider it you say 5 weeks. That’s close to a month but it’s also more. first you say we could fly into Hong Kong but you don’t know if that’s the best route.
I want to say you’ve already convinced me with your argument about our age. We’re not getting any younger, but we can still be as young as we are.

and still, I tell you to ask me again in the morning.

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” By Julia on the 99

Sunday July 7, 2019
5:06pm
5 minutes
Philippians 4:13

I can ask for what I’m worth
I can believe in what I’m worth
impact
impact
remember how I’ve changed
changed the energy in the room
changed the room
impact
after the fact
during, before
I’m doing what I came here for
connect to the guts
connect to the love
lead heart first and
fall at the feet of a
stranger saying
you are enough
you are more
and I am you too
I am the same
the might is gold
the light is green
I’m ths dreamiest motherfucker you’ve
ever seen
I’m the way things were
but not the way they used
to be
and I’ve got packets of
promise and hope for free
I can believe that I am good
I can ask for what I need
I can push boundaries I’ve set up if they’re no longer serving me
I’m the anthem I sing
I’m the naked floor dance
let them know I own
every last steady stance

“A federal statutory holiday” by Julia on B and W’s couch

Saturday July 6, 2019
10:54pm
5 minutes
From a Wikipedia page re: Canada day

It’s hard to take the day off much less the whole summer.
SoMe
One
Told me that we need to take breaks
Just like the people who work the same hours every week or the ones who go to offices or places of employment outside their brains

This is a foreign concept to me:
I haven’t known the value of a weekend since I was in high school
It feels like every day there is something that needs doing
Especially if no one else is checking to see if it’s done or not
There is no paycheque on a Monday or a Sunday if I am busy sleeping in

This year I am trying-I mean embracing -summer and all its charms
The sunshine, the beach, the cycling, the road, the long walks, the long calls, the patio, the music, the playing, the throwing, the catching, the eating, the laying

I am and I am not because it takes a while to relax and when the relaxing comes it feels like a trick to knock me off my game and stay off

But the folding the laundry, the putting away the clothes, the reorganizing the closets is just as much me as the writing is; as the making
It is just as much me to walk around my house without bottoms as the me who puts on a bra and faces the edge of the street

“the stuff where the composition has a seduction to it” by Sasha at her desk

Friday July 5, 2019
5:05pm
5 minutes
From a quote by Jeff Buckley

I used to tempt fate by riding my blue
bike with no helmet to houses uphill
where I would undress faster than I could
say “yes” or “no”

The stuff that hope is made of
caught between my fingers
the world thick with temptation
sticky with seduction

I would slip my phone number
written on receipts
in back pockets of men
who smelled like summer
who smelled like Brazil
who smelled like drumming

“you need to do better, Kev.” By Julia in her bed

Monday July 1, 2019
12:10pm
5 minutes
From an instagram story

I am laying here a bit weak and helpless from the bleeding. It’s the first of the month and my period has arrived. Happy Canada Day. Red and white for me too. Wonderful.
The rumbling was loud and I thought by now I’d be staring up into the clear blue sky, but it would be too loud for everyone.
Meaning it would feel too loud to be around anyone.
A faint whisper of “you need to do better than this.”

The hot water bottle on my pelvis and sometimes on my upper right quadrant (a rib is starting to speak up now too, wants its turn) is also red. Look at the patriotism.

But I am grateful I didn’t feel this way yesterday while we were in a car for the last leg of our trip, wincing through every sparkling river, every endless mountain. My body is quiet until it is not. Now it is loud, as I mentioned, and I am here listening as it repeats the same story on a low hum.

“‘Gimme a whiskey’” by Julia on her patio

Sunday June 30, 2019
7:35pm
Fallon
Louis L’amour

Summer in my skin like the Mediterranean is whispering my name
Olive oil drenched and happy
Sun kissed and laughing

Whiskey on my lips the way
the good lord intended
Sweet rope and burn down my throat where the heat knows its home
I’m not coughing
I’m not sad

Gimme a shot and I’ll dance you moonlight, open my mouth wide
and I’ll house the whole sky
Use the Big Dipper to swallow the Milky Way and we’ll be living this
easy until the end of it
Whenever it comes
The second hand singing the chorus with the wind

“Llttle wallet multicolour has zip” by Julia in Kettle Valley

Saturday June 29, 2019
7:01am
5 minutes
from and old text from my dad

I look for this bag and you are Ocean far telling me there’s something in it for me
I look for this bag
What bag
I took this bag Out
I took another
I put the bag Away
I shelved the other
There is nothing new and you are Ocean away telling me
You are telling me it’s there and did I find it?
I am worried it’s money
I know it’s money and I’m worried because you snuck it in there
Where?
Where did you sneak it?
It, still a surprise
In the Bag, you say
Front Pocket
It’s been days and do I always take out my things and put them away without looking?
Wouldn’t it catch my eye?
Tell me where to find it again, I say
Ocean away, you say
Llttle wallet multicolour has zip
Little wallet
Must be money
I have no multicolour wallet but
You call it a wallet because I
had some money in there
Just in there
Because I do that
If you had looked in my book
you might have put it there too

“Yes, that’s what you’ve told me to do.” By Julia in Kettle Valley

Friday June 28, 2019
5:35pm
5 minutes
Dipped from a dream

I wait by the foot of the stairs because I hear your steps, softly
Beyond another life and yet
you do not make your way down
the hall and down to me
and maybe this is the last time I will think quietly that you might
I have been carrying you gently from year to year and not much has changed
Or if substantial is a measurement then nothing has
I wish to not be carrying you as if you might whisper into the cracks of my hands something I will remember
Something like the velvet of your ear lobe between my thumb and forefinger or the thicker skin on your neck that ties your skull and backbone together
Something I won’t even try to forget Something exactly like that

“It must be nice to hold” by Julia at the cabin in Galina Bay

Thursday June 27, 2019
9:45pm
5 minutes
Calypso
David Sedaris

Like the front scruff of a standard poodle, the soft of a blind dog’s ears.
There is more to feel than the fur or the bone. It must be nice to hold the trust of your companion–in a small dish, or a pocket. Safe there from the heartbreak of losing the other half of his soul.
We offer choice to a dog who has lost the ability to decide whether to stay in or go out.
A lap for a lay, will he or will he remain upright for the third day in a row?
Will he stop trembling?
Will he say yes? Or maybe?

“The ads were put on billboards” by Julia at the cabin in Galina Bay

Wednesday June 26, 2019
9:45pm
5 minutes
The Tipping Point
Malcolm Gladwell

I’ve been told recently that bats love mosquitoes and will eat a billion of them at once. Why did I grow up thinking bats were scary? Because they are doing the Lord’s work as far as I’m concerned and I could have been team bats my whole life. Also team swallow. Also team whatever else wants to eat them. There was no ad on a billboard anywhere with the information. There always seems to be the wrong information on billboards. More cleavage more money more perfect teeth for perfect existence. I just want to know who’s out there fighting the good fight. I just want to know which creatures eat mosquitoes and which animals to pray to. I want to know what kind of bones are good to give a dog (raw) and how to spot a pile of bear shit (berries), or that this feeling will one day be a new feeling and I will be okay.

“We’ll do exactly as it says” by Julia on the reading chair

Saturday June 22, 2019
7:05am
5 minutes
The Couple Next Door
Shari Lapena

If there is a map I haven’t seen it. I operate under the assumption that there is no guidance. I know about maps logically but in my bones there’s something different.

I can always trust the little push inside my stomach nudging me this way and that. I am often told to look at the map and follow exactly what it says but looking alone confuses me. Following it feels like another thing entirely.

It gets in the way of my experiencing things in the moment the way I like to. It makes me feel unsettled as if I’ve denied a great truth. It has something to do with letting somebody else’s route lead me. As if I’m not able to carve out a route of my own.

Maybe maps are there for those who like to compare and contrast notes. Or to see what’s availble first before choosing to follow a way off the beaten path.

“His unfinished symphony” by Julia on her couch

Friday June 21, 2019
9:42pm
5 minutes
Do Not Say We Have Nothing
Madeline Thien

It was nice there
laying on our backs
in front of the log
facing the blue blue
and seeing planes travel
in packs with their sound
close by

I have asked him at least
50 times how he is and
each time he answers as if
it were the first
I love him for that
if it were me I would have snapped by now for being asked the same thing all day

but he has always been better at responding to the best intentions of me and I have had to put him on trial for all the lack I invite in
there is no grudge and that’s due to him
I hold all of mine tightly-
I remember old days inconsistently, as if they were these days and could be referenced for emphasis

but today on the sand looking up
we saw it all
the same joy
the same flickering lights vibrating

“sister don’t mind that I’m not on time” by Julia at her desk

Wednesday June 20, 2019
7:10pm
5 mintues
One Day
Sharron Van Etten

when we don’t respond to each other’s letters
that’s when I’ll know
they can be late but not too late
not as an afterthought but as a delayed
gift, a here is everything i missed from
then till now, a few more times I thought
of you, reminded of you, the flowers that
are dried between the tiny book I made you.

It will be entitled “Lately”
and in it will be all the times I connected
the dots between our hearts and thought
to tell you about it in a fine blackwing pencil

-Or-

We might not find another night apart
as long as we both live
I have already held magic

from the corner of my eye I see you lift
something and begin
I think you’re playing my ukulele
and it sounds beautiful and then
I see you were just holding a loaf
of bread in your arms and I do not
love you less but more more

“Well you have lost 3 matches in a row” by Julia on her couch

Wednesday June 19, 2019
7:20pm
5 minutes
overheard on an unknown internet compilation

there have been few fights
few fights, but still fights
small fights, few, but still
nobody is perfect
nobody is always right

the dishes in the sink
the ones that say I was home all day but didn’t do these
the ones, revealed later, were left on purpose for someone else because it was up to someone else to wash them

a little fight
a little snarl
a curl of the lip
a growl
a growl?
an almost hit
a growl?

one of us does some eye rolling and one of us catches it
one of us Calls The Eye Rolling Out
the other says no more talking about this is necessary because I am right

sorry because someone is right.

it does not feel good to be right.
it never has.
it does not feel good to be wrong but this stings.
and I am right.
I know it.
everyone knows it.
but it is not good when winning feels like losing.

I wish I didn’t almost hit.
I wish I didn’t growl.
I mean somebody growled and I wished that somebody was more patient instead.
if somebody were really right maybe they would have said less. growled less.

“We’re happy to accomodate you” by Julia on her balcony

Tuesday June 18, 2019
6:23am
5 minutes
from AirBnb

towels, here, for your bodies, for your long hair, for your face, wash cloths too.
toothbrush, if you need us we’ll be baking mini quiches.
you can try them, they’re for you.

breakfast will be served in bed unless you specify otherwise. we will leave a tray for you outside your door unless you allow entry.
We wish to honour your privacy. We are most willing to accomodate you during your stay. Anything you desire.
We will not engage in sexual communication unless invited.
We will not call you afterwards unless you leave your phone number in the drop box by the front desk.

lunch is available upon request. if lunch is being eaten on the terrace, there will be a time limit.

“Get an alert when the price drops” by Julia on her balcony

Monday June 17, 2019
6:41am
5 minutes
From FlightHub.com

dad wants to see me
pay for my flight wants to see me
I speak to him on the phone and I tell him don’t worry
about the money right now

but I dont think my narcisism will rest if I let it believe that he just wants us all there together.
I was just there.
Last month I was there and we saw each other for 3 Sunday lunches in a row and 3 Monday dinners.

I chose to live far away.
I didn’t realize how often I’d want to go back.

Summer in the city is packed with juice. I like to be there for that so I can suck it dry, let it crust on my chin.

I don’t want to say no because of money but money becauses me much more than I’d like it to.
It’s always more than it says and the deals come with an asterisk.

“Get $300” by Julia on the Expo Line

Sunday June 16, 2019
9:45am
5 minutes
From a Scotiabank bus ad

Are you rich?
Yes
Are you alive?
Yes
Are you happy?
No
Are you rich?
Yes
But you’re not happy?
No
Could you be happy?
Yes
But not today while you’re rich?
No
Tomorrow?
No

Are you a wisher?
Yes
Are you a breather?
No
Are you alive?
Yes
Are you a breather?
No
Will you become one?
Yes
Will you today?
No
Tomorrow?
No

Do they pay you?
Yes
Is it enough?
Yes
Is it more than enough?
No
Is it good?
No
Is it better than nothing?
Yes
Is it everything you thought?
No

Do you dream?
No
Do you daydream?
Yes
Do you believe?
No

Are you going on a boat?
Yes
Are you going to see the world?
No
Are you going to eat shrimp cocktail?
Yes
Are you going to see a whale?
No
Are you going to watch the show?
Yes
Are you going to drink?
Yes
Are you going to find an answer?
No
Are you going to take a picture?
Yes
Are you going to remember?
No
Are you alive?
Yes
Are you rich?
No
Are you alive?
No
Are you alive?

“Oh, good for you!” By Julia on her patio

Saturday June 15, 2019
12:44pm
5 minutes
Overheard in the alleyway

You’re a good little pet
I give you a pat on the head
Woman the size of a doll
Because the man doesn’t
Take her seriously
She doesn’t need to be taken
Seriously by this man who does not listen she wants this man to stop speaking so she can show him
She wants it
She wants it
All her life waiting for the chance to prove wisdom, look a little older
And open your mouth to say
And now she is older but he is still in the old way and congratulates her for doing her job as if it’s a feat of nature
As if she deserves a treat or an allowance
She doesn’t need it
But she wants it
Him to stop speaking
Him to start listening
Him to hear the good
Ideas
Him to actually deserve them
Then he starts talking about his son
His tall good looking talented and unhappy son looking for a doll
To marry him
A doll like her who smiles grace
But seethes underneath
Who waits
Who sits

“There’s a good chance I’ll be away” by Julia at BC Women and Children’s hospital

Friday June 14, 2019
8:32am
5 minutes
From a text

I’m going gone going
I’m moving on say you can’t
But you won’t and I know
I’m alive

Ooh I don’t have any second
Guesses
Ooh I don’t have any b plans
Ooh I have the shirt I’m dressed in
Ooh Maybe I’ll join a band

I’m going gone I’ve been wondering
How long is too long when you’re not
I tried to get your hand in mine
But you said another time
And I don’t want to waste my alive

Ooh I don’t have any second guesses
Ooh I don’t have b plans
I’ve still got the shirt I’m dressed in
Oh maybe I could make a few fans
Ooh maybe when I join a band

Singing
Singing
Singing

Singing
Singing
Singing

You’re never alone when you’ve got your own voice
Ooh maybe I’ll join a band

“This App Finds Every Discount On The Internet” by Julia at her desk

Tuesday June 11, 2019
9:32am
5 minutes
From a sponsored Honey Ad

I have questions about this. Mainly, is it safe.
Do I want some third party knowing everything I’m
interested in purchasing with money that I don’t
necessarily want them to be privy to?
I am not a daily shopper, a binge shopper, an expensive
shopper. I am, however, an impulse shopper, and
do I need those impulses to be made even easier to
act upon? Maybe I want to know if the shoes I’m saving up
for become more affordable, or the head phones, or the
baking sheets since I burnt the last good one we had.
Maybe, though, I don’t want my free time to be spent
“hunting for deals” because then at what point am I
L I V I N G. In the moment. Imagine that: real life!
It sounds alluring. Who is behind it? Is it the government?
Is it Facebook? Is it Nike? Is it sad that these things
make their way into my daily writing as if any of
it fucking matters? It’s one of the things I hate the most
about my generation, about the climate of existence
these days: The phone and its long cord was romantic,
the snail mail, a dream. To talk about a cellular device
that can make calls and simultaneously take photos
while connecting me to EVERY DISCOUNT ON THE INTERNET
is surely the opposite of that.

“you can’t feel nothing small” by Julia at her desk

Monday June 10, 2019
9:43am
5 minutes
Ophelia
The Lumineers

Whether the sun is out or not
I keep wondering where you went
Lots of pain in this medicine
I haven’t found it yet

Got a cool breeze followin’
picked the proper jacket
the pockets are deep and
the zipper works
a hood to keep my breath close

Where do you go
when the sky lights up
Are you ever thinking about me?
Summer seems to pass before it starts every year
And every season fades into memory

I don’t miss you, no that would be too small
I don’t keep your photo on my wall
I break my own skin
with every thought you’re in
making mountains out of molehills

Whether the moon is playing rough or not
I have you pounding at the door
A secret cave at the bottom of my well
And that’s what I keep you for

I don’t miss you, no that would be too small
I don’t keep your photo on my wall
I push and pull at my own skin
with every thought you live in
oh you keep on living
I can’t kill off the note that rises higher
I can’t dream another story into life
You’re the one I want today and forever
even if I never tell this story right

I don’t miss you
no that would be too small

“Take it you guys are out” by Julia in her room

Wednesday June 5, 2019
10:11pm
5 minutes
from a text

I got scared when it was up to me to defend you. I didn’t know how to ask for what you needed. I thought of it though. I couldn’t stop thinking of it. I was worried you’d be angry with me or worse, her. I wanted to protect us both. I also would have rathered be with you. You and your soft skin in the bed. I could let you talk me into anything. And that could be a very bad thing.

“Frying Pan” by Julia on the 17

Tuesday June 4, 2019
3:16pm
5 minutes
From the back of a truck

I remember saying I would never write the kind of play that beats you over the head with everything. You know they have a name for that? Frying Pan Theatre. The kind that slams the message into your brain and leaves nothing to interpretation. And I have not actually written any play but I still say it. I don’t want frying pan lectures or conversations or even meals. SUBTLETY is beautiful. Let me wonder what the meaning is; let me consider all the options. Let me taste the secret at the bottom of the swallow, that pinch of something you knew would make me want more but without explaining why.
That is what art can do. It can embody a lifetime without prescribing one way to feel it.

“Many toothaches” by Julia on the 84

Monday June 3, 2019
11:16am
5 minutes
Antibioticwise.ca

I tell you I don’t trust life coaches the way I don’t trust my dentist. You might be a nice person but some people try to keep you sick because your money keeps them from worrying about getting sick themselves. When you have someone else’s sick money you can live a life of luxury. Is that what you do? And I have a feeling you’re not going to tell me yes, but I have to know: what do you get out of this work. Keep me sick and keep you from worrying or heal my sick because it heals yours too. I bet you’ll say the second one. I practically gave you the answer. I don’t hold onto anything if it might help someone else. Maybe we’re more alike than my cynicism would have me believe. Maybe you’re really out here trying to make the world a little brighter.

“All skill levels” by Julia on the 17

Saturday June 1, 2019
4:10pm
5 minutes
From a sign on the street

You want to be inclusive, right, whip your hands into a circle, knot them twice.
Everybody here holds hands.
We don’t care who you are or what “level” you think you’re at or on or what have you, but we all play on the same turf here, and that’s called Right Now.
Right Now doesn’t ask you where you’re from or if you think you’re a part of a special club. Right Now doesn’t care what you did or who you screamed at or what you wished for.
Right Now has no expectations because Right Now changes every second. Right Now knows you and your right now is changing too.
So grab a patch of palm from your neighbour from another neighbourhood and close your freaking eyes all the way to the bone.

“how will I survive without you” by Julia on her patio

Thursday May 30, 2019
8:30pm
5 minutes
Overheard on the patio across from her

my sister is picking the poetry she’ll sing at my tribute concert. she’s gotten a composer to put my words to music. it’s going to be heartbreaking and strange. I never thought anyone was going to hear what i wrote and now I’m not even there to willingly give it. my sister means well. i’m glad she’s choosing the writing out of anyone who could have free reign on my books but I never wanted this. I wasn’t secretly hoping people would see them. that sounds like a lie but it’s not. I honestly wrote most of that for me. and if someone gets hurt by what I said, how will that bring me peace? I know I felt my own shit in the moment and it didn’t change my love after I felt it. how am I supposed to explain that to them now that I’m dead?

“More space to play” by Julia at the 84 bus stop

Tuesday May 28, 2019
1:33pm
5 minutes
from a window poster

break out break free break open break up
crack a hole crack a window crack a code crack a puzzle
release
let go
give
offer
light
light has room to enter
light has space to touch whatever it wants
whatever needs to be illuminated
whatever needs to be seen
whatever is over
oh well is over
what if is over
wish I would have is over
offer
give
let go
release
the no longer serving
the grown out of
the outdated
the old reason
light up the room
give room to light
to play
to dance around
to expose
hold on tight
let go light
let go of light so it
can glow

“Stock in the opinions of others” by Julia on her couch

Monday May 27, 2019
8:44pm
5 minutes
Meditations, 12.4
Marcu Aurelius

I can
Understand
If you are looking to make soup
After you grind the bones of your own worst nightmares living in your skin you’ll have enough marrow to sustain it.
I can help you strain it, stir in the stock of other people’s opinions telling you your own has such little value.
Add a couple disregarded feelings and a pinch of desperate validation.
I can understand it because it’s where I’ve been hanging out too.
Write everyday, hope someone is reading it, but write everyday even if they do not.
I act like I don’t need them to but I need them to I need someone to.
Star lovers tell me it’s all over my sign, stitched across the map, proof of flaws and tendencies.
When output comes at a cost and what am I willing to spend

“Fill those little spaces” by Julia on the 2

Thursday May 23, 2019
6:18pm
5 minutes
Overheard on the bus

I don’t have room for more feelings.
They say it you don’t let them out you won’t be able to make space for new ones and sometimes the old ones are what keep us sick. I thought I was releasing them but I’m feeling sick so maybe I was wrong. Feeling. I’m always the one feeling. Always considering how I might translate those feelings into words. There’s no room for new words. I have put so many in me that some of them knock around each other looking for a place to reflect quietly. They tend to fill up all the little holes and leave no air in the gaps. It’s very full inside. I don’t want to say too full because that seems ungrateful. I am grateful for it, whatever this is. I know it’s something good or necessary. I know there is no fighting it.
It is a practice, after all, this releasing. It needs attention in the morning, at night, on the bus.

“treats cognitive complaints” by Julia at her table/couch

Wednesday May 22, 2019
5:33pm
5 minutes
From a med school whiteboard

they always got the prescription pad ready
tell them you aren’t
feeling
like you and they write something that will make you feel like even less
what about sleep?
Doctors seem to
forget about
that one
Or someone to talk to
or listening to the underground communication network of an old growth forest
some birds have healed me before
yeah
birdsong in the morning
the slap of a hardball on leather
the crack of a bat
the perfect thumping sound a wooden spoon makes when it taps on the bottom of the pot

“still interested in babysitting?” By Julia on her bed

Tuesday May 21, 2019
8:01pm
5 minutes
From a text

I was just saying to Jam that it was out of sight, out of mind for three whole weeks and I didn’t miss it.
The way I don’t miss anyone.
I was saying good, cause you know, riddance, and I was saying now it’ll be easier to turn down since I’m already 3 weeks in. But it’s as if the universe has bigger ears than I used to and hears when you say that you are ready to level yourself up.
That’s all it needs when you think about it: strong decision making in the direction of your dreams. It sends road blocks right after it catches wind to see if you’re still interested.

“Invigorate with peppermint” by Julia in Amanda’s bathroom

Sunday May 19, 2019
11:42pm
5 minute
Trader Joe ‘s Tea Tree Tingle Shampoo

so I was hungover, right, first day on set, fucking bush league. I didn’t think anyone would notice, right, I wasn’t puking or anything you know, just tired, bags under my eyes. The make-up artist asks how I feel. I say fine. she says she can smell my skin. I’m like, good for you. she tells me, do you need something for your head, and I’m like why do you have something? then she pulls out some peppermint oil, rubs it on my wrists. I feel it tingle inside my arms and i’m okay with it. then she puts some on my head and things start looking up immediately. I don’t know how she knows but she knows. and I’m glad she knows. and i know i’m not the only one she’s seen. she has it in her kit for a reason.

“The emotional sensory radar of the infant” by Julia on Amanda’s couch

Saturday May 18, 2019
10:01am
5 minutes
Scattered Minds
Gabor Maté M. D

smiling at him I am smiling
at him and he is smiling
at me and we are seeing now

I am sad on the inside I
put him down for a minute
I don’t want him to see my sad from the inside out
I want him to feel alive love, the process of reacting and being present

I respond to his tiny face and his tiny laugh and his
squeals

I try to heal my insides before I pick him up again It is lifelong

I want to love him but I am
diatracted by stress
I want to see him but I am looking somewhere else.
He knows
He knows me by my smell
by the impetous behind authentic smile
He knows when I am simply using the same mouth muscles to mimic a feeling and he is sad if I am sad and he is sad if I am there but not fully
This small heart
he is smarter than me
He is not yet scrambled
naive, easily fooled into a love that isn’t.

“me as an individual” by Julia on the GO bus

Friday May 17, 2019
10:46am
5 minutes
Overheard on the GO

see i’m going in, right
diving deep, losing sleep,
dreaming more, right
when i go in, i go all the
way in, trust my heart can
swim even if my legs never
learned how
see i’m on the hunt now,
gentle lion seeking shade now, tired tail and pink pawed, finding it within now
i want more pathways, more
sideways, more what ifs, more expansion, and i do this: little tongue kiss, inside out fist, i’m going all the way
if i can land myself at the bottom of the well then
i might come up with new eyes and
see you deeply too
cause i am myself an not individual, i am everything and you

“pretty sure I came that way” by Julia on the Megabus

Tuesday May 15, 2019
10:37am
5 minutes
Overheard on the Megabus

I didn’t think of her on Sunday, Mother’s day, which would have been the day.
She was here and there but I didn’t light the candle.
She enters the dining room on any given day. She doesn’t reserve her visits for media recognized calendar celebrations.
She’s been gone for 22 years and the missing doesn’t go away. It’s not always at full volume but I feel her without trying that it sometimes helps she’s so quiet.
She tells me things I need to remember:take the pills, leave the house, ask for help, ask for belp.
She would stock my fridge cause she knew I would starve if it were ip to me.
I taste her in evey linguni noodle. In every spoon of sauce.

“You know you got the wrong ticket” by Julia on the Megabus

Saturday May 11, 2019
10:47am
5 minutes
Said to me by the bus driver

When mistakes are made it is often a result of lack of sleep, fury, or living in a dream.
I know this because I have made choices in all of these a scenarios and mistakes occurred.
I have been lucky to have kind people make room for my mistakes. They understand humans do this because likely they’ve done this.
Mistakes can be made and the outcome can stay the same.
That is when gratitude comes in. That is when I practice my thank you on the ride so the driver knows how much good he did by making room for my mistake.
In this instance, making the mistake did not hurt anybody.
It did not change the outcome.
It did, however offer perspective in the form of mild surprise and embarrassment.
It reminded me to be awake before making choices.

“Best Western Plus” by Julia on the GO bus

Thursday May 9, 2019
7:54pm
5 minutes
Best Western

Best Western
Plus good sex in a gross room
Plus funny story
Plus memories
Plus strange mattress stain
Plus cute bathroom spiders

Best Western
Plus affordable trip
Plus more weird walls
Plus a bible missing the book of Genesis
Plus chatty front desk
Plus ratty pillow cases

Best Western
Plus lucid dream
Plus the first time someone says I Love You
Plus the first time someone needs to go get ice
Plus the chair no one has a purpose for
Plus the pens they use to tattoo a heart on their ring fingers

“those of us who are willing to fall” by Julia in R’s Studio

Wednesday May 8, 2019
9:35am
Rising Strong
Brené Brown

I have felt the ground under my two feet without shoes on
and I go bumbling around some days with shoes on
but on days where the sun pokes his tired head out of the clouds
and bathes the room in a light that I did not know I needed until it returned,
the earth feels harder to land on
I do not know how this works or if some dreams hold tighter to the
sleep left in my bones, keeping me locked in a bed that isn’t
moving me forward
I do not know if the sun is in cahoots with my calendar or the
internal clock that has been set to Someday Soon but Not Today
I have intertwined my toes in grass blades so thick I could
swear the whole field was trying to keep me forever
Why is this day, dressed in all the right orange, sounding worse
in my mind, a suggestion I could very well do without?
Is it the dream then, likely accomplice, that wants me more
than a Wednesday ever could?
Is it the fall from structure or schedule or grace?
Is it all in the moments before I rise again, where I must
decide to keep getting up?

“to inspire his team” by Julia in J’s attic

Tuesday May 7, 2019
9:41pm
5 minutes
From a text

well the first thing would be to see his team
see his team, learn their names
names learned? check
seeing team, know each one, can have conversation with any of them
about their families?
know enough about their home life?
uncheck, box currently empty
can smile?
yes, check
don’t need a family tree to smile at someone
smiling leads to inspiration
smiling leads to conversations about family
ah, okay, inspiration comea before family
see team, check, know names, check, smile, check, inspiration?
leads to
leads
okay lead by smile
no?
lead by example
be the leader
smile

“Disturbing a primordial silence” by Julia at Amanda’s table

Saturday May 4, 2019
5:14pm
5 minutes
The Secret Language of Symbols
David Fontana

Note: It was earlier than the first day, a lingering at the base of my spine.
There was little before, and then there was this.

I sit with nothing on, the wind blowing my tits to the side,
and somewhere beneath the noise lives the rumble.
There is proof of existing here. It feels berry ripe,
rasp or straw. The inclusion of blue feels appropriate.
Sky, ocean, baby.
With this skin, I thee wed. And the moment of quiet erupted.
It burst with red and tiny seeds, it turned the inside of
the dream a shade of fallen pink, leftover from the spill.
I sit with nothing on so nothing gets in the way of my heart beat.
This metronome paces itself against the under currant.
It joins me in the swell of chaos like a passion united.

“calls forth one’s muse.” By Julia on the pullout couch

Friday May 3, 2019
6:19am
5 minutes
deepstorydesign.com

hello I am calling you!
from the depths of my soul
from the heart of my experience
from the flesh of my centre
where did you sleep last night?
in my wrist
in my mouth
in my womb?
I felt a pulsing in my dream
and all of my living
did you need more rest last night?
did you have an idea you wanted to share?
if you are waiting for me I am sorry I am late
I haven’t been myself
I’ve been lingering in the kitchen next to tired bodies
aching and i’ve been wearing them around
you may not recognize me with all this heavy in my bones

“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

“a wish for happiness” by Julia in Jessica’s attic

Tuesday April 29, 2019
10:22pm
5 minutes
A quote by the Dalai Lama

I wish for happiness the way I wish for
a seat sale to fly me back into the swell
of my mother’s longing. I wish for her
linguini and clam sauce above all other
things, and dad’s Shrimp With a Vengeance.
He does not make them the same way twice
and for the first time in my life I am happy
that I inherited that from him. Earlier I
told J that I didn’t know how I was going
to cut the potatoes until I put the knife
to one. She thought I was being self-
deprecating again, a trait I did not get
from him. If I have to trace it back, I’d
say I got it from my mother but hers has
gone away now since she started swearing.
I think I’m the one she got that from.
The first time I came home from theatre
school she was shocked at how easily
my tongue had turned to fucking mud.

“we are called to act” by Julia at YVR airport

Monday April 28, 2019
9:11pm
5 minutes
A quote by Starhawk

we made the plan before we were in the system of things
sometimes you have to jump off the ledge you’re on without knowing what’s next. we say sometimes, but it’s always this way. you can what if yourself into a dark
cloud, should have, wished you’d, but still, you’re not where you started. You’re here, wherever this is.
one might argue that it’s
closer to the future, closer to the dream, the light, yhe answer.
we are called to act often before we are ready. but since readiness is a state of mind we are either always or never ready. when we put it that way, choosing to be always ready feels like the more fruitful option.

“I still can’t see” by Julia on her bathroom floor

Thursday April 25, 2019
9:13pm
5 minutes
The Black Man Speaks
Langston Hughes

We got a professional to come in and I still can’t see my face in the mirror. It’s speculated to be a ghost situation. These are not my words but the professional’s. She thinks because I used to be able to see a reflection that there’s a ghost living in the mirror now. I’m telling her, maybe there’s something in me. And she says, yes like a ghost. And I’m thinking, no, more like a brick. Not a brick growing roses in the pit of my stomach. But a brick blocking everything in there from getting enough sun. Light is needed for a reflection. The professional doesn’t answer cause she’s tapping the pencil to her teeth and it looks like she’s busy making a clink sound. Clink clink. I think, she pulls it away slowly, you might be haunted by a ghost of your past self and you can’t see yourself because you don’t recognize someone so different.

“her notebook is reserved for” by Julia at her desk

Monday April 22, 2019
8:44pm
5 minutes
You Are Our Witness
Debbie Urbanski

jotting down ideas
making lists:
grocery
to pack
to do
etcetera
recipes
things in point form, bullets, pew pew
asking questions
reminders
love notes
money coming in
ideas to revisit
songs
letters to self, also love
interviews
memorizing
story shaping
deep investigations of the heart
deep investigations of the mind
deep investigations of the body
reasons why
reasons why not
sketches made from spelling errors
secrets
swear words
memories
reliving dreams
letters never meant to send
penmanship practice
workshop plans
titles
the date
the time
Accountant information
poetry
timed writing
free writing
bad writing
good writing
new writing
risky writing
flow charts
calendars
gratitude

“no one can remember” by Julia at her desk

Sunday April 21, 2019
8:03pm
5 minutes
Anthem
Terese Svoboda

We reach back into our skulls for candy or god or something that smiles at the past of us. There are no guarantees for this existence and no one can remember every single warning sign. I don’t think that’s how it works. If we could then hindsight would be out of a job. It would be sad to see something imperative for lesson learning rendered useless.
It, is, after all, everyone’s biggest fear. We want our lives to have purpose, to affect change, to be worth writing down.

We want our children to need us, our parents to see us, and our friends to rely on us. And in turn we rely on them. It’s a cycle of life we would be silly to ignore. We need each other. We keep one another useful by our belief that we cannot navigate this realm alone. We were never designed to in the first place.

“because they don’t realize” by Julia at W and B’s table

Saturday April 20, 2019
8:57pm
5 minutes
Real Roger
Harold Ober

They’ll come home
Late
Shuffle the key in the door
and shush the boots crashing into each other

Shhh shhh
Go to sleep boots

They’ll fumble with the key house and the key ring and the key to the universe
At this hour, the key is water
They’ll fumble with the water
Pour it into a cup with the lights off

Shhh shhh this is gentle

And spill most of it onto the floor
They’ll sop up the accident
the almost
the not quite
Let the fridge door slam by mistake
They’ll tiptoe into the living room
remove their coat, floor,
bag, couch,
scarf, couch,
pants, floor

They’ll creak along the dead spots of hardwood and shift their bones around

Shhh shhhh almost

“because they don’t realize” by Sasha on her balcony

Saturday April 20, 2019
4:53pm
5 minutes
Real Roger
Harold Ober

How will I teach you how to love your body
in a world where a choir of voices sing
BE SMALL
HOLD IT IN
DON’T
STOP
YOU ARE TOO MUCH

deafening crescendo
coming from all sides
every time you leave home

at least that’s how it felt to me
often
sometimes
mostly

How will I teach you how to love your body
when the lineage of women hating themselves
runs as deep as the lineage
of love and water

That is my work
my task from the very first day

Strength and wisdom
in your muscles and bones
blood like fire
burning up towards a sky
that forgives all the hurt
carried in cells
all the shrinking

We will not shrink

You will hear me praise
how my body carried you
and made you who you are
and fed you and carried you

You will hear me celebrate
the stretch marks and dimples
and you will believe me
because I will be telling the truth

You will hear me speak of the beauty
of all bodies
ones like yours and ones like hers
and ones like mine and ones unlike many
and you will hear me
sing louder than the choir

A lone voice
a mother’s voice
swallowing the many
with the power of the matriarchy
that only knew what they knew
and now we know more

“And you arrive light” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Friday April 19, 2019
9:08pm
5 minutes
Summer Lines
Judy McGillivary

you arrive by light
a kiss on your lips
from the other realm
a story in your veins
that i know and
i don’t know

you arrive bright

you arrive by light
full pink moon asks
to expect the unexpected
line up the crystals
on the window ledge
throw my head back
and laugh at all the
ways I thought I knew

you arrive bright

riding on the tail
of a shooting star
teaching me about
surrender and chaos
and letting go
ripening me to the truth
a sliver of mango
sprinkled with chilli and lime
holding my hand as i

arrive too

“silence flourishes sea-green.” by Julia on the 9

Thursday April 18, 2019
3:32pm
5 minutes
Overdose
Seamus Dune

It’s a flash of light and boom I’m in front of a bunch of humans and boom none of them are laughing and boom wasn’t I funny before this?

They say be a teacher, you’d be a great teacher, but I am too much like the dark side of my mother when teenagers are making me yell over them. I said a few times boom and again boom but nothing, they weren’t interested because, and I know, they were uncomfortable.

Teach! They say, as if boom it’s so damn easy.
The silence though, after a dreamy patch of vulnerability, is enough to
stitch my chest up ugly, leave a mark the size of my old me and keep me jagged, string hanging. My head is the only place silence won’t inhabit and the rest of me can’t handle it. I guess I have some core strengthening to do.

One kid did make me laugh today and that part was very good.

“silence flourishes sea-green.” By Sasha at her desk

Thursday April 18, 2019
3:33pm
5 minutes
Overdose
Seamus Dune

In the stillness
of the early morning hours
silent and ripe

This is the first time
in my life that
I’ve had this kind of
t
i
m
e
to rest and
be and
centre and
prepare
and rest

and meet
whatever guests
arrive at the door

“Every morning a new arrival”
Rumi says and it’s true
now more than ever before
it’s true

In the sea-green quiet
of three in the morning
I touch ecstasy in the
low down hiccups between
my hipbones
I touch fatigue in the
never-quite comfortable
I touch anger that my
mother won’t get watch
her love hold our girl
I touch the petty jealousy
that lives in clenched jaw
that smacks me around
when I’m least expecting

“Why are you still here?”

“the best part of her life” by Sasha in her bed

Wednesday April 17, 2019
9:02pm
5 minutes
The Politician
Patrick White

The best part of Syd’s life was the three weeks in the summer she spent at the lake. She’d overlap with her brother and his family for the first few days and then they’d head back to the city. Richard, her old mutt rescue, loved their time at the lake, too. They’d fall into an easy rhythm – rising with the birds and sun, going for a short walk with a mug of coffee in hand, a swim, some food, another walk, reading on the deck, another swim, some food… The summer after the divorce, the first time she came to the lake without Henry, she thought she might get lonely so invited different friends up on weekends, but now she cherishes these slow easy days, following her nose, drinking in the sunshine.

“the best part of her life” by Julia

Wednesday April 17, 2019
8:53pm
5 minutes
The Politician
Patrick White

It smelled like discount brisket mushrooms and the spinach on its last legs
the crust of good intentions on the insides of some bowls
We ate enough to see feelingly
It felt of seeing enough
Seeing feelings as enough

Before hands met skin
Before the playful spin ritual
There in the The Too Salty Not Enough Flavour Will You Still Love Me
I had a moment of doubt then it left again
I’d take crust anyway

“Like the blueprint of a lake.” By Sasha on her couch

Monday April 15, 2019
10:53am
5 minutes
Weatherman
Norman MacKenzie

The wind is blowing south
and I send incantations into the
open mouth of the yellow tulip

When will you come?

The blueprint of my favourite lake
traced on my insides by your unborn fingers
We’ll spend hours on that dock
dipping toes into glass
fishes grazing the summer heat
spitting watermelon seeds
dragonflies flirting with newly
appointed freckles

When will you come?

I make another batch of granola
stock the chest freezer with soup
clean the dust bunnies from under the couch
read about the miracle of how my body
will open

the tulip

and you
in all your divinity
in all your grace
in all your knowing
will arrive

“a stretch of road, a write, and birch trees” by Sasha in her bed

Sunday April 14, 2019
3:04pm
5 minutes
The Death Of The Partisan Girl
Tom Wayman

Grief has a way of tossing around the heart
a big ginger cat pawing
the beating thing
back and forth and down
by the curb
a stretch of road ahead
that’s sketched in the colours
of a face you’ll never stop missing

You’re not the only one
who wakes up with tears on her pillow
the words to a song you haven’t thought of in years
swinging from the branches of the
dawn mind

You see other people rushing and hustling
and calling and tripping
and a friend tells you that you’ve changed

I have changed
you say and your voice catches
because isn’t change the only thing
that we can count on?

“I was supposed to have the afternoon off” by Julia at her desk

Saturday April 13, 2019
8:02pm
5 minutes
Truckin’
Ken Mitchell

We’ve been burning the midnight oil! It is the right kind of burning.
The burning out part is coming, surely, and if it comes in the afternoon, we will take it off, let the smoke rise, and take a nap.

This is trying to be something with too many metaphors. What do you call that anyway, a poem?

We’ve been working on our RELATIONSHIP. We’re not up watching TV, I’ll tell you what. Since B has come back from his work trip in Nevada, he’s been saying, no one is safe, not even us. Between you and I, I think he caught a bug, but I love the man, I’ll tell you, so I’m willing to put the long hours in if that’s what he needs! Even if it’s a bit strange. I mean, what’s he worried about? Me leaving in the middle of the night if we’re not up the whole time discussing our needs?
B never needed anything before. I find it refreshing!

“You would hide your bitten nails under the table” by Julia on the walk home

Friday April 12, 2019
9:45pm
5 minutes
The Intellectual
Benny Anderson

Well the jealousy found me. Always does. In the shape of a voice I would never expect. It sounded like sorry but stung like theft. And where does that tiny piece live now? In the back pocket of weak jeans? Clinging to a bit that solves my puzzle, otherwise used instead as coaster under tepid glass?

Why couldn’t I be loved like sister instead….lifted, whole.
It pangs at my hip.
Gnaws at the cut of my eye.

“You would hide your bitten nails under the table” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Friday April 12, 2019
8:46pm
5 minutes
The Intellectual
Benny Anderson

You would hide your bitten nails under the table. That’s what you’d do. You should’ve sprung for a manicure. Can’t remember the last time you did that. One of those places called “Chic Nails” or something, with TVs on the wall and so many tiny bottles to choose from. Flushing forty bucks into the toilet, but whatever. Lots of guys like that. Groomed nails. Whatever. You look at your hands and you see your childhood, your bad haircut and your ill-fitting jeans, cuffs rolled up. You have child hands. Drove your mother crazy, how you bit your nails. She tried everything. Told you she’d give you a dollar for every week you went without biting. “It’s nasty, Viv,” she’d say. You’re nasty, Viv. Why’d you say yes to this date anyway? He probably likes fishing. He probably has a hairy neck. He probably has pepperoni nipples.

“under his dark eye-lids” by Julia at her desk

Thursday April 11, 2019
10:23pm
5 minutes
Faces Of The Sun-Man
Rienzi Crusz

He’s staying up late again eating stale Cheetos cause somehow that makes him feel better. He is bothering himself and it’s punishment, maybe for letting himself get this alone. Loneliness is worse when you hate yourself on top of it.

The Cheetos in the bag turn his fingers fuzzy. He is careful not to smear them on any of the furniture. She wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Too bad she’ll never know one way or the other what he’s up to since she broke his heart into a shape that no longer fits inside his chest.

He thinks about wiping them underneath him, just to see. And maybe to spite her. Who buys a white couch anyway? Stupid fucking white couch. This is a place where liars sit, he thinks to himself. This is where liars pretend they’re going to be just fine.

“imbalance and improperly-tuned segments” by Julia on her bed

Wednesday April 10, 2019
9:31pm
5 minutes
Later, When I Am Carried Forward This Far
Parm Mayer

You wouldn’t want to blame the word now would you? Unless it was the wrong one, I guess.

Equality is not the same as equilibrium. Balance is stronger. Why else would they teach that? They being the universe, obviously. On the sea saw of life (metaphor, check), there is up and down but there is always both. You could count on it. Or you could trust it. Think about why your hear about trust. Yes, about the universe. Because it works. Because believing in yourself is a medicine you don’t need a prescription for, and hey i’m a Doctor! Give yourself whatever you need. Cause limit is only a five letter word. You could crush it —if you wanted to.

“I have entered you quietly” by Julia on her bed

Tuesday April 9, 2019
8:21pm
5 minutes
Your Room
Robert Sherrie

I saw you seeing the ships the way I would and it made me feel alive
I like knowing parts of me can be transferred on to you like a patch or a scarf
I wear you gently
That is to say with care
I walk you around outside
I keep you facing the ocean, the silky lavender dress streaming
This is how I share you
I dance you on the inside
I slide on dead wood
splash around bit, whoop a knot out of my hair
I want to know how I have entered you
How you might wear me inside and out

“good-luck puppet” by Sasha at her desk

Monday April 8, 2019
6:41pm
5 minutes
Fetish
Pierre Reverdy

“Good luck,” you say, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

“Thanks,” I pull back a little. You grimace. “Thanks,” I say again, and I mean it this time. I really do.

“Are you nervous?” I want you to go and find your place in the stands. I don’t have time for this. I need to warm up.

“A little. Not really… I need to – ” I see Alisha already on the field doing drills. “I need to start – ”

“I know. I’ll go. I’m sorry.” You put your hands in your pockets. “Have a good game.”

You lean in to kiss me and I lean in to hug you and you end up kissing above my head.

“good-luck puppet” by Julia on L’s couch

Monday April 8, 2019
2:21pm
5 minutes
Fetish
Pierre Reverdy

Meda says I’m not allowed to carry her around anymore. Says the face is chewed off too rough and it’s scaring the cat. I tell Meda that the cat does not get a say in this.
“You’ll give her nightmares,” She tells me, “don’t you care about that?”

“Oh I’m sorry does the cat find herself screaming in the middle of the night, unable to get a single thing done the next day, Meda? Does she get behind on all of her chores, Meda, all of her living?”

I realize I am yelling now and the good-luck puppet appears to disintegrate further with each decibel. Meda isn’t looking at me.

“I am not trying to be cruel about the cat, Meda, I’m really not. I don’t want her to suffer. Much. “

“The room is dingy” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Sunday April 7, 2019
9:35pm
5 minutes
When She Leaves Me
James Wyatt, JR.

The room isn’t exactly dingy, but it’s nothing fancy. You starfish on the bed and sigh. I check out the bathroom. I start running a bath. I don’t have tub in my studio apartment. It almost deterred me but then I remembered my budget and how I promised myself I’d finish my novel this year and the more I paid in rent the less I could write because I’d have to work at the bar and good grief am I really forty two years old and pouring pitchers of beer…

“Shall I join you?” You call from the bed.

“If you’d like!” I call back.

“What would you like?” You say, appearing in the doorway.

“The room is dingy” by Julia on her couch

Sunday April 7, 2019
8:49pm
5 minutes
When She Leaves Me
James Wyatt, JR.

They sat there on the curb
him, in his own piss, her holding blood. Where could they go at this desperate in the morning. He shivers.

“If we go back now, we’re fucked”

“Nobody is going back. Nobody is even talking about it, do you hear me? “

“I said ‘if.’ To remind us that we could go back and we’re not.”

“I can’t do this by myself.”

“I’m not going. “

She pushes open the door to the room. It stays open, falls off the track.

“Nice”

“Throw your bag over to keep it shut.”
She coughs.
“We’re fucked.”

“Does not oblige you” by Julia on the bathtub

Saturday April 6, 2019
11:44pm
5 minutes
From an email

Not owed to yesterday
I am today’s collaborator
Fierce
Funny
We make choices as a team
The breath of fresh air on skin
The light rain nesting in puddles
Today the silver fish do not get murdered
Today the silver fish contributes something
Anything
Not sure yet
Today is for second chances
For walking straight into love
For breathing into things
For picking a good movie to only watch a third of
Today I give everything and then more when I think I have none left
I smile
I look up
I see the face in front of me
I make a laugh come out of an impossible woman
Today is what tomorrow will never be
And what I will carry on my tongue