Aisha Sasha John is a poet, dancer and choreographer. Her solo performance ‘The Aisha of Oz’ premiered at the Whitney Museum in New York in 2017. Another iteration of the show will take place at the MAI in Montreal in 2018. Her previous poetry collection, Thou (2014), was a finalist for both the Trillium Book Award for Poetry and the ReLit Poetry Award. In addition to her solo work, she has choreographed, performed, and curated as a member of the performance collective WIVES. Aisha’s video work and text art have been exhibited in galleries and public installations. Born in Montreal, Aisha has an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Guelph, and a B.A. in African Studies and Semiotics from the University of Toronto.
Judges’ Citation
Aisha Sasha John’s I have to live shows what poetry can become when stripped of prettiness and polite convention — when in survival mode.
Aisha Sasha John’s I have to live shows what poetry can become when stripped of prettiness and polite convention — when in survival mode. Spontaneous, its subjects unposed, its language unrehearsed, each poem has the effect of being taken with a polaroid camera. John writes poems that are resistant to overwrought aesthetics, poems that have popular appeal yet are uninhibited by audience, poems whose casual demeanour belie their fight against casualty. They wind their way into us like a chorus. They gain force by accumulation: “I do. / I did it. / I did. / I had to. / I have to. / I have to live.” As a result, one does not engage with I have to live by familiar means of dissection and analysis. One need only listen, as to an aching friend. No need to fix anything. Just listen.
Selected poems
by Aisha Sasha John
Like the idea of Aisha.
I am not the idea of Aisha.
I am Aisha.
You I know you
Love the idea of Aisha.
I am not the idea of Aisha.
I am not the idea of Aisha.
I am Aisha.
Copyright © 2017
He thinks I should be glad because they
Documents destined for the shredder.
I leave flat the ones to be scanned into patient charts.
I consider how long stickers have rested on the glass
Protecting me from potential
Disease and violence
Of the people.
The first time I came here I was late, I was scolded
I was bleeding
I barely even cared
Fuck, look:
When I start to bleed
I have to eat
Copyright © 2017 by Aisha Sasha John
I fold in half
He has to bray.
To pull his rope leash in the light.
He did it again in the black-blue sky
Of my leaving.
It is death.
He has to fucking bray
Because he is alive
And
Tied up.
I asked Fadwa what
A phrase meant;
It had hooked my bad ear and what
She said is it meant
You should be
Shy.
And then Manuela said my buns were horns
Were my tied-up
Sex.
I released them.
Je ne sais pas how to say this en anglais mais
My selves:
I suppose we
Gave me a course
Making our soul of a fitness enough
To scorn you
But not enough to
Not scorn you –
D’accord?
Copyright © 2017 by Aisha Sasha John
The goat
The tenant she said call it.
He said I did, I did
And then the tenant’s boyfriend was like
I called you and a girl picked up and
Said it was the wrong number.
(And I’m like okay so it was the wrong number why are you even
Telling the guy that)
And then her boyfriend was like ya, I called it four times
She said it was the wrong number.
And then, then I was like okay. Hmm what the fuck.
And the tenant was like maybe it was your wife?
And her boyfriend was like no it
Was a girl.
So there’s a
Question there.
Also apparently the dog likes the cat
But the cat
Does not like the dog.
Copyright © 2017 by Aisha Sasha John