The Spirit of Why Not Kill Each Other

It started with a prank, a harmless prank. A sociology major got tired of her chemical engineering roommate talking about how easy the Arts students had it. She gagged him and tied him up in the back of an SJU classroom for the duration of a modern Canadian literature class, a God and Philosophy class, and an Honours Seminar in Educational Psychology. Six hours later, she let him go. He stumbled out, disoriented and barely able to walk, unfamiliar with that side of campus. Finally he found his way across the pond to refuge at an EngSoc meeting. “There was discussion,” he babbled in horror. “There was analysis.”

“Those bastards,” said the president. “We’ll get them for this.”

The next day, a virus sent through UW-ACE crashed most Arts students’ computers, as well as those in every Arts building on campus. When the computers finally turned on again, the screens would only show a picture of The Tool.

A FedS Arts Council member gave an interview to Imprint about how illiterate engineers and mathies worked out their insecurities by making fun of the clearly superior arts students. “Maybe if they were able to construct a complete sentence instead of communicating through grunts and farts, they wouldn’t feel the need to resort to violence,” he said.

He was found dead the following morning, hung by a pink tie in the middle of the SLC.

welcome to dykeville

last month i moved to dykeville
it's just south of gaytown, west of womensstudiesland

everyone knows everyone in this town
and the alice chart is city-wide

weeknights we drink beer on the porch
watching the u-hauls go back and forth

weekends we pair off and go out to party
at the intersection of finger and vag streets

the v train goes all the way downtown
and it's so easy to find my way around

i'm never moving back to heterborough
the sights and sounds on feeldoe avenue can't be beat

A Short-Lived Romance

The first thing she noticed was that he was short. She only liked tall men. The two of them could never be anything more than friends.

-

He was smart - really smart. He made her think, and then he made her laugh.

When she talked, he listened. He understood.

She realized that she made him nervous, even though she couldn't figure out why.

-

She'd never been good with platonic friendships. She always ended up wanting more.

Her friends rarely returned these feelings. When they became aware of her desires, they got scared or disgusted. They didn't stay.

On those occasions when she met someone who did feel similarly for her, they wanted her all to themselves. She couldn't live like that. She wanted everyone; she needed to be free.

This time, she wouldn't make either of those mistakes. They would be friends, and that would be all.

Catching Up

"Alice! Over here."

Madison waved at Alice from a table to the right of the patio. Big earrings, big smile, cigarette in her hand. It had been a while since the two young women had seen each other, but Madison hadn’t changed a bit.

“I got you a coffee,” Madison said, pushing a cup toward Alice as she sat down.

“Oh.” Alice paused to set her purse down on the table. “I don’t drink coffee.”

“I forgot,” Madison said sheepishly. “I’ll go get you some tea. Maybe a hot chocolate?” Alice began to acquiesce, but Madison had hardly caught her breath before speaking again. “Actually, I’ve only got a couple minutes anyway. Hair appointment. You’re not thirsty, are you?”

how to stay alive

get out of bed in the morning;
stay out of bed
until night.

go to work.
eat.
buy a bottle of wine if you need to.

when you feel the darkness coming,
lock yourself in a room
that has no windows.
have a trusted friend hide any knives,
scissors,
nail clippers.

don't nap outside
during snowstorms.

write your will
just in case.
instruct survivors
to donate your clothes
but burn your books.

buy another bottle of wine.

think of your mother,
and how much she loves you.

think of your father.
don't let him win.

Greyhound

7:22, my watch read. I walked a little faster. The bus was leaving in eight minutes, and I still had to get my ticket.

Just a few more steps to the bus depot. I'd been walking for half an hour, and drops of sweat were pooling in the neck of my $270 cropped leather Guess jacket. It was too warm for it that night, but there was no time to pause and take it off. I had two midterms coming up the next day, and the 7:30 was the last bus to Winnipeg.

7:26, and finally I was at the ticket counter. "A one-way student ticket to Winnipeg, please." If I was lucky, I would make the bus. I crossed my fingers in my left pocket while I passed the ticket dude my debit card with my right.

For a second, I debated with myself over whether sprinting for the bus would be worth the sweat stains in my lacy tank top. Two midterms tomorrow, and I'd be heading straight back to rez where I could change before anyone saw me. I made a run for it.

The last people in line were just getting on the bus. I made it! I arrived panting as the driver was about to close the doors. He gave me a knowing smile, but let me on.

The bus was nearly full. It looked like I wouldn't be able to get a whole seat to myself. I glanced up and down the rows for the person who looked least likely to bother me during the ride. Old lady, ugly guy, sleeping woman. I sat next to the sleeping woman.