“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?”

“Where it pours bean green over blue” by Julia walking home

Friday June 22, 2018
11:26pm
Daddy
Sylvia Plath

I thought I saw you walking toward me
You had headphones on and you were walking a bulldog
You don’t have a bulldog so I knew it couldn’t be you but the face and the beard and the eyes were yours
The same sadness was not doing a very good job of hiding there in the corners
I almost reached out anyway
The whole thing has got me blurry
Seeing you on neck of other men wishing
Watching you look at me like we both know that you’re not in this city but your soul has been hopping
I almost reached out
I almost touched the you that wasn’t
In this way that I do

“2 hours or longer” by Sasha in lecture


Tuesday January 27, 2015
12:30pm
5 minutes
the Air Canada cafe booklet

How to hold a stranger’s hand

Sitting on the bus
Minding your own headphones
You watch the rain make caterpillars
on the window.

A woman sits beside you
A purple poncho dripping droplets
on your leg

Disgruntled
you look
Sideways
You wonder if she’s crying or if she’s just your age
You cross the divide of leg touching

You take her hand

She pulls away but not
completely
She looks like a damp version of you
only a little in the future

Friend

The water’s calm
Or
Maybe it’s just the Bay
You sit on one of twelve big logs
You wonder if they’ve been here tripe the time
that you have

A man
walking a small dog
who barks at the gulls
He sits
Not near enough to reach
But near enough for you to know

You go to him
Five
Six steps

You take his hand

He smiles
He calls the name of his dog
loud enough for only you to hear

“I am not sure at all” by Julia at Dufferin Grove Park


Thursday July 10, 2014
6:34pm
5 minutes
from a quote by Erica Jong

From your shaky hand on my shoulder, marking the birthmark we lovingly call “Africa”, I can feel what you want even if it’s gentle and smooth. The touch, from another, in any shape or form always reaches the insides more than we think they will. You tell me you’re here now and that you will be here tomorrow. I love you for that, and for that alone if I didn’t already love you for all your other things. Your skin on my skin makes me feel rare and luminous and open and strong. You look me up and down and you say, “your beauty.” And you mean it. And somehow in this shared circumstance “your beauty” is better than “you’re beautiful” because you don’t think before you say it, and it comes from your truth place.

“The way we judge” by Sasha on her bed


Monday, October 7, 2013
11:35pm
5 minutes
The Four Agreements
Don Miguel Ruiz


Amy and Dan’s therapist told them to trade secrets. They set aside five minutes on Monday night to do so.

Amy: Do you ever see someone on the street and think that they’d… taste good? I mean, not sexually. I mean, like, that if you licked their arm, they’d probably taste like… pie?
Dan: Nope… But, I respect that you do. I mean, that’s weird, but –
Amy: You aren’t supposed to judge –
Dan: I’m not! I was just saying… I like that you see strangers and want to lick them.
Amy: That’s not what I said! This isn’t working.
Dan: Don’t say that. Remain hopeful. I’m going to go. Phew. Okay… Sometimes I, well, I never want to lick people, but… occasionally I want to, like, touch their hair. Okay. If I’m being perfectly honest, I want to braid their hair.
Amy: You know how to braid?