Collective Unrest

 

To The Nazis Who Marched On Charlottesville

January 2, 2019

We will replace you.

The torches you carried only provided better lighting,
allowing us to put faces to the hate-filled souls
we already knew were there.

We will call you out.

You don’t get to spew vicious, viscous venom
then blend back into the rest of us.
You cannot be both a snake and a chameleon.

We will not make this easy for you.

The fringes you have pulled from
are feeling the scissors edge.
And you know it.

We will not let you fray us.

 

Gail Bello is a former co-editor of the online literary magazine The River and placed third in the 2018 Plunkett Poetry Festival contest. She writes fiction, poetry and plays, her work has been published in The Sandy River Review, Ripple Feminist Zine, Water Soup, Turnpike Magazine, Bonnie’s Crew, and Pussy Magic. She is thrilled and honored to be published in Collective Unrest. Follow her on Twitter @AquajadeGail.

Please follow and like us:
In category:
Newer Post

They Ask Us

They ask us to be temples. Bodies gilded, floral, wrapped. Bodies holy and kept. Made for the mouths of praying men. Wholly preyed bodies. They ask us to be temples, not goddesses.   *First Published: Calamus Journal, Issue Five, April…
Read
Older Post

Pulse

I listened to the soft racism in the booth next to me. Heard it spread across the room, become sexist and then homophobic before it rested at my foot. Western Colorado is not all that unlike Utah, or Texas, or…
Read
Random Post

Knight of Arcadia Ch. 2

“Arcadia is humanity’s legacy among the stars, and we are the inheritors of that legacy. Do not be fooled by the rhetoric of the progressive media! They want you to believe that our world should be equally shared by all…
Read
Random Post

I Remember

I wore brown boots that night. I remember ice cubes clanking In one burnt-umber glass Clutched inside your grasp I remember street lamps shining On the soaked sidewalk Stained with soil I remember knee-high socks, Toes toward the ceiling Legs…
Read
Random Post

Belial

It was a beautiful night. A little cold, but beautiful. That’s what he told me, it was beautiful, okay? And she was out there, walking, working - this hooker. Not as beautiful as the night, he said, but not a…
Read
Random Post

Elegy for the Black Man Who Survived a Police Encounter Today

I thought you were dead when I first saw you. Ghost of my dreams, you are what I see when the news tells me who's laying in their pool of blood this time. But you are not where I imagined,…
Read