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:
error
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

Two Poems

Hunger Cruise They ate the sea they drank the rocks the coasts fled no crabs in sight. Scattered clouds, like wounded coconuts kidnapped the moon that guided rafts. The rocks don’t shine, the sand ignited, the island engulfed in the…
Read
Random Post

Sinking City

Beyond rescue, Miami is a cruise ship lost at sea with no lifeboats, throwing an all night dance party, music and stamping feet drowning out the sound of taking on water— but no,  not lost, the sea knows exactly where…
Read
Random Post

In the wake, so intimate, There is

The following pieces, "In the wake," "so intimate," and "There is," by J.I. Kleinberg are visual poems from an ongoing series of collages built from phrases created unintentionally through the accident of magazine page design.       Artist, poet,…
Read
Random Post

21 buried sunsets

for France & Lebanon, following the terrorist attacks a. it becomes violence b. a border sings a prayer of negation c. too late d. a scarf layers a bloody neck in diseased warmth e. nobody looks at the ground anymore…
Read