Posted on by Christina Strigas · 6 Comments

Impromptu

we were just walking

when in a tiny entrance

I saw this magic

before me

I knew i had to go

my friends didn’t need

that much begging

they knew from my expression

it was meant to be.


And they weren’t

disappointed.


Last song

crosses all my lines.

The Orpheus Theatre is beautiful too. Reminds me of the Olympia de Montreal.

Sometimes the most spontaneous moments

are the ones that you never forget.

That’s me and my bbf’s (b for bitches) since grade 7.

Yup they like when I make up

acronyms.

Or when I impress them

with my brilliance

or confuse them

with my ditziness.


But Brattle Book store

left me

with rare books and ghosts.

It’s a level of consciousness

artists feel

that feeling when dead poets

reach you

and you bolt

out of bookstores

for air.
Live in the moment

or

don’t live at all.

when you’re called fucking Canadians at a pub

you know how to shrug

with some Montreal flair.

Posted on by Christina Strigas · 36 Comments

poems

have some poems in my pocket

under my skirt

between my legs

along the highway to the city

writing them in my head

in my bed

everywhere but here,

i’ll come back sooner or later

but they take control now

and my notebooks aren’t empty enough

and my love is not as full as i want it

so i drown it

add some ice to it

and shake the shaker with

instant cosmos on the table.

i’m the best suburban downtown barmaid

around,

my heart never ages

you look like sisters and other lies

i hear.

oh, come on, you know the drill

the thrill

you can find it anywhere else

but here.

poems set me aflame now

let reality burn down

to the ground

i won’t call 911.

i’d rather be a ghost.

I see nothing but love

and even that covers itself up

and hides from this painting.

leave my blindfolds on

i like it that way.