Welcome to Writers Resist Spring 2026 Issue

Welcome to the vibrant words and images of spring, celebrating the memory of Marsha P. Johnson, beloved and befamed transgender LGBTQ rights activist and Stonewall Inn heroine.

If you’d like the link to the virtual reading for this issue, 18 April at 5:00 pm PACIFIC, please email us at writersresist@gmail.com.

Now, join us and our contributing resisters, while we flip the flaming bird at the antis and revere all that proclaims our identities.

Why does a tranny cross a yellow brick road? by Mx. Asher

To David Lehman by Waverly Vernon

Run by JL Smither

Ahead of the Storm by Laura Ann Reed

Absent Hills by Johanna Haas

This Is the Way Our Words End— by Dennis Humphrey

Doomscrolling isn’t solidarity by Maxochitl Cortez

Warning by John L. Holgerson

Two Poems by Robin Michel

Trashy by M.R. Mandell

Duality of Dogma by Nardien Sadik

No Vacation by Raymond A. Mazurek

On the Road to Samarra by Marissa Glover

planning the ballroom by Alexis Rhodes

Pledge by Dion O’Reilly

When Should We Senior Women Not? by Ann Grogan

Choices by Alice Benson

To David Lehman

By Waverly Vernon

David,
you say poetry is not political,
as if Gaza is a metaphor
and not a place where children
fold themselves into rubble.

On my television,
the anchors call it a war.
I count the seconds between bombs.
Your voice is nowhere in the smoke.
You are busy arranging flowers.

I want to be like those poets
who care about the moon.
But every time I look up,

                                                      I hear sirens
                          through someone else’s ceiling.

David,
you call it complicated.
The screen shows
a father
carrying half his son.
Complicated    is your word for silence.
Complicated    is how you hide your hands.

I know I am American because
I can mute the channel
and make the massacre vanish.
When I turn off the TV
someone still dies.

Metaphors about peace
are for poets who mistake
neutrality
for virtue.
                          —I do not write peace.

I write children
throwing stones at tanks,
seconds before
they become numbers
you will never name.

       David

                                          the flowers you love
                                          are growing in Gaza.
                                          They grow in craters.
                                          They will not forgive you.


Waverly Vernon (they/them) is a writer and interdisciplinary artist studying at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, focusing on writing and ceramics. Their work explores femininity, sexuality, resilience, religious deprogramming, and trauma, transforming personal experience into connection and dialogue. Their poetry appears in Moonstone Arts Center, WIA Magazine, Wildscape Literary Journal, Assignment Literary Magazine, Creation Magazine, and Arcana Poetry Press.

Photo by Mohammed Ibrahim on Unsplash.


A Note from Writers Resist
Thank you for reading! If you appreciate creative resistance and would like to support it, you can make a small, medium or large donation to Writers Resist on our Give a Sawbuck page.