Writing is an act of resistance
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Serpent Song
By Candice Kelsey I July. A man in Thousand Oaks confronted by wildlife authorities. The case: Exotic Reptiles illegally stockpiled. Neighbors suspect this guy may not have permits for all 40 venomous snakes. Above 100 degree heat kept in crowded conditions activity level through the roof. More runs to Home Depot 14 hour day. Curator
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Writers Resist: The Viral Resistance Issue
don’t touch your face, COVID-19, coronavirus, Writers Resist Viral Resistance Issue, social distancing, shelter in placeHello, Dear Readers, Welcome to our Viral Resistance Issue, a gift with something for as close to everyone as we can get—while maintaining proper social distancing. This 107th issue of Writers Resist has fiction, poetry, and an essay, that offer satire and sorrow, fear and humor, and a good dose of introspection. Now, go sit
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Pandemic
By Summer Awad what does empire look like in slow motion what of nine-to-fives stripped of their ticking clocks shelves – aching from stock and restock – baring us their bones? – what do you make of shuttered cafes laptops and coffees on the couch – recalibrated reality the comfortable uncomfortable but immune – really
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A Colossal Crisis
By Shawn Aveningo-Sanders ~ after Emma Lazarus, “The New Colossus” When brazen towers fell, we wept in disbelief— our great nation attacked upon her own shore. We obeyed our leaders who hailed, “Shop More! That’s how we’ll heal.” And we found some relief in the stuff we hoarded, albeit the feeling brief. We shop-till-we-drop,
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Diet Margarita
By Terry Sanville Douglas climbed the outside stairs two at a time to his second-floor apartment over Tuck’s Liquor. He keyed the front door and slipped inside. Fugem dropped onto the carpet from her window perch and yowled, then purred when he filled her bowl with kibble. Outside, the noise died back, only a
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Notes from an Epicenter
By John Linstrom Sixteen Oaks Grove, Queens, NY Sixteen oaks in two rows planted down an island in the street: school is closed, kids transplanted, benches here are empty, clean and neat. Auto shops still rollicking with laughter, a boy walks by, dribbles his ball alone. A bird keeps trilling, and will
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Dispatch from the Holding Tank
By Nancy Dunlop It is my first day in— what are they calling it? Self-quarantine? Social distancing? Shelter-in-place? I suppose, for me, it’s isolation. But unlike many others my age, I’ve been in isolation for almost a decade, due to a disability. Today is really no different than any other day for me. Except
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Heretic Hymn from the Pandemic
By D.A. Gray One morning the cats who once Crept up to our doors – stopped. For a time the bird’s voices grew louder Then they, too, disappeared. We prayed on command. We were sure The symbols would save us. Leaving the church we made stops At every store that promised A cure –
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A Modern Fable
By David Laks We’re all going to die. It’s just a question of when. That is my job—to figure out when you will die. Well, not you specifically, but you as a representative of you. The digital model of you. I am a data analyst at John Adams Life Insurance Company and my job