Writing is an act of resistance
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Blue Plate Special
By Sara Marchant The little girl in the booth behind me is bouncing on her vinyl seat in excitement, and I stop chewing my crunchy salad in order to better eavesdrop. My back is to her, and her back is towards me, so I can hear her breathy voice over the bouncing creak of…
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Don’t Make America Great Again
By Tawana “Honeycomb” Petty I got a fever for the flavor of liberation, a quenching for the thirst of vindication. A country built on slavery must pay reparations, or at the very least stop their racial propagation. Black bodies still suffer from redlining, and segregation, then get displaced from safe havens by gentrification. They poison…
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Gallop Poll by Grace Jelsnik
A post-election Gallop Poll surveying 20,000 adults between the ages of 28 and 29 revealed the following startling results: 60% of the high-school dropouts who voted for Donald Trump believed he not only won the popular vote but also is the lead singer in the punk band Myopic. 22% of the people who voted for…
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A Drop of Water
By James Schwartz Land of lapping lakes, Peninsula & Pine. Alexis de Tocqueville, Frontiersmen & Forefathers. Detroit flood & Detroit debt Our kingdom for a drop of water. James Schwartz is a gay ex-Amish poet and slam performer. His poetry has been published by various poetry journals including Poetry 24, Babel, The New Verse News,…
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Double
By Harold Jaffe The perils are vast, the receptors are slick, seductively small. The perils are not vast, the receptors are not slick, seductively small. I see the homeless huddled against the steel-glass wall of the stock exchange. You do not see the homeless huddled against the steel-glass wall of the stock exchange. I…
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To the Man Who Shouted “What does your pussy taste like?!” as I Ran By
By Courtney LeBlanc It tastes briny, like the ocean. It surges, waves pounding the surf, punishing the sand simply for always being there, for always being present, for never leaving well enough alone. I keep running, ready to drown him in a sea of my pounding feet. Previously published by Rising Phoenix Review. Courtney…
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March, redoubled: When plans go South by K Walton
Hi, Julie, Thank you for writing your essay, “March, interrupted: When plans go South” (Writers Resist, February 2, 2017 issue). Thank you for raising your pen in service of the movement and for speaking from a place of awareness and resistance. Thank you for lifting up hope in the face of all the fear and…
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Two poems by two poets
[fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”no” equal_height_columns=”no” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” background_position=”center center” background_repeat=”no-repeat” fade=”no” background_parallax=”none” enable_mobile=”no” parallax_speed=”0.3″ video_aspect_ratio=”16:9″ video_loop=”yes” video_mute=”yes” overlay_opacity=”0.5″ border_style=”solid” padding_top=”20px” padding_bottom=”20px”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_2″ layout=”1_2″ spacing=”” center_content=”no” hover_type=”none” link=”” min_height=”” hide_on_mobile=”small-visibility,medium-visibility,large-visibility” class=”” id=”” background_color=”” background_image=”” background_position=”left top” undefined=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” border_size=”0″ border_color=”” border_style=”solid” border_position=”all” padding=”” margin_top=”” margin_bottom=”” animation_type=”” animation_direction=”left” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_offset=”” last=”no”][fusion_text] Trump Tower By Marvin Lurie I left the truth…
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Fun to Be Fabulous
By C. Gregory Thompson “You look just like my aunt,” the woman said to us, looking at my friend, Sara. “But, of course, she’s dead now.” We were perched on the aqua blue cushions of an outdoor couch on what we jokingly referred to as the “lanai” at Rancho Las Palmas, a resort in Palm…