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Exhibitionist

Meet-cute

Meet-cute

You’re not allowed to die

Dear Dolphin

We’ve all got a poem called Blood Quantum

It’s clockwork

How do you suffer?

Granville Island

Just a sweet sweet fantasy, baby

If you love it let it mould

At 5 a.m., the love

you think you know your life

You think you know your life

Dear Dolphin II

Puncture wounds

Home from A&W in winter after seven beers

I’m such a modern woman when I brunch

You have two girlfriends

Hey, spirit guides

Nothing lazy can be good

It’s so hard to live in the world

Way out, or Poem I wrote while jogging on 12^th Ave

Let’s talk about it

Happy for a time

I’m a woman without a lover

Are you there Molly? It’s me, Hymen.

when we’re young

When we’re young and insecure about our intelligence

I famously don’t care

Dear Mr. Decker

First-time smudge

Still fkn writing about him

I want to call you now and every time

Winnipeg, you’re so pretty

We used to go to this dessert bar

Please don’t sue me, Meghan Trainor. This is not a pop song.

When I’m older

what do you do

What do you do?

Junior Chicken

Not a tweet, not yet a poem

To the drummer from Halifax who shared my ice cream cone but didn’t stay the night

Dear Dolphin III

I go to the orthodontist

You

This is a poem I’ve fashioned

Whoever invented cruise control just wanted to fuck themself

At Christmas

Pinky drum

Put it on my tombstone: ‘It was just her personality’

Accidental boyf

But if

They will call this vulnerable

Acknowledgements

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