“Happy Monday Lovers” by Julia at the desk

Monday July 30, 2018
10:25pm
5 minutes
from @a_belovedgreen on Instagram

It’s raining somewhere that isn’t here.
Somewhere deep and mysterious and easy
to get to but not here because here it
is not raining. Some us of are praying
for rain, and some of us are praying at
the alter of the sun god shining, staying
up, warming our bones, illuminating all
the things we might rather go on not
seeing. And isn’t that a risk in of itself?
And yet some of us are worshiping. Some of
us really like the truth. It is a day of
reckoning when all is lit up like a beacon
of hope or desire or loud. It is a Monday
for lovers of the light and lovers of the
afternoon. I am happy loving this seminal
summer from the inside out. Hazy sky and
all, blurred lines and everything. The
colour of my new skin would tell you that.
I am out there chewing ice cubes, singing
thank you through my teeth

“Preach” by Julia on the 99


Thursday May 26, 2016
11:25pm
5 minutes
Overheard on the 99

Mickey and I were laying in her bedroom listening to Eminem and painting our nails. Her mother had called us once to come down for breakfast but we weren’t hungry because we had just finished a pack of Oreos and a pack of cigarettes. Mickey’s mother always smelled of canned ham but she worshiped on Sundays and Mickey wasn’t supposed to miss it. Mickey told me it didn’t matter, let her keep calling until that woman strains her voice and has nothing left for Jesus. Mickey’s mom had 3 other kids to get ready before service so she didn’t call on us as much as I thought she would. Mickey was already putting on her plaid vest with the fur and opening her window so we could bust out the heavy Sunday green. Mickey glanced at me from over her shoulder, a cigarette stuck to the dry part of her lower lip. She said “you’re lucky your mother doesn’t bug you when you’re just trying to have a good time.” I laughed for a second. Then I told her, “you’re lucky your mother is alive!”

“this music has more religion in it than any church” by Julia at her dining table


Wednesday February 17, 2016
9:54pm
5 minutes
from a YouTube comment by GB3770

I pray at the church of kindness, I can’t settle for anything less than that as my temple. I don’t believe in a God that won’t invite us all to play, that condemns for ignorance, that promotes the weak and bludgeons the strong. I don’t believe in a God that withholds, that accepts money as the only currency, that won’t forgive us for very arbitrary, yet non-negotiable acts. I bow my head at the alter of generosity. It’s the only home I ever feel safe enough to lower my shield in. It’s the only thing that moves me to a state of rejoicing. Don’t give me that hearsay scripture, that haunting, beautifully crafted by poets rule book. I worship at the church of soul music. The kind that lifts your skin off your bones just enough to make room for grace.

“a sneak peek” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Saturday, January 23, 2016
9:49pm
5 minutes
A Facebook Post

You can’t help yourself. I get it. What with the swiping and the scrolling and whatnot? You’ve never met her in real life. (“It’s the way we’re going… Technology is more “real” than real, quite often…”) You follow her and she’s the first place you go when you get up, even before you’ve peed, even before you’ve put clothes on. She posts most frequently on Twitter. You’re disappointed when she gets that app that streamlines all the social media together. You learn to appreciate the repetition. She’s getting more risky in her posts – more swears, more cleavage, more opinions – and you like this.