Collective Unrest

 

Newspaper Clippings

May 22, 2019

I tear news clippings from newspapers

to remember flesh and blood martyrs.

 

Now please understand when I say

that I don’t want to get political,

 

But when my worth is questioned

due to homophobia, I have reason to protest;

 

When I can’t openly walk outside with a partner

without being called slurs and taunted,

 

When my Highways of love are polluted

with bumper stickers saying, “God Hates Fags,”

 

When daffodils of purity are stomped

upon by the faceless shadow of hatred,

I have reason to believe there is a problem.

 

Now I was always taught

to hate the sin, not the sinner;

 

But when a large part of my identity,

no, my very existence,

 

is marked as something worthy of the death penalty,

There is definite reason to pause and worry.

 

When Matthew Shepard was lured, tortured,

and brutally murdered for his sexual orientation.

 

When Mark Carson, holding hands with his partner,

was cornered and taunted, and then stabbed

to death for being himself.

When Ahmed Said and Dwone Anderson-Young

were trailed after leaving a gay bar,

and beaten to death

while trying to reach their vehicle.

 

Now in the beginning I said that I didn’t want

to get political,  but believe me more when

I say that I don’t have that choice.

 

Adam Levon Brown is an internationally published poet and author in 14 countries. He identifies as Neurodivergent and Queer. He has had his work translated in Spanish, Albanian, Arabic, and Afrikaans. Boasting over 300 published pieces, you can find his writing at such publications as Burningword Literary Journal, Firefly Magazine, Zany Zygote Review, Epigraph, Angel City Review, and Ariel Chart.

Please follow and like us:
error
Newer Post

Before @realDonaldTrump, I Used to Sing of Promise

One morning when I needed to shake the silence in my bones, I slipped out before sunrise and found the song I used to sing sitting on the ground by the dog’s favorite lamppost. I lifted it up and felt…
Read
Older Post

The River's Story

One step more, the river floor constituted of pebbles below me, slips between my toes. They are tortoiseshell, black, slick with fur and the few ivory stones pocked with beige blemishes.   The canopy a spectrum of greens shielded us…
Read
Random Post

Stoat

It's not the tongueyou think about at such timesbut the dialect,how “drool” and “savor” soundpushed against the roofof the mouth, the wallof the alley   Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in…
Read
Random Post

Imagining Miami Beach Underwater

Ocean Drive lives up to its name, clusters of fish eggs cling to the curb of the sidewalk that’s slowly blushing with the growth of seaweed, waiting to hatch in the safety of these shallows. Famed art deco replaced by…
Read
Random Post

Slow Information

*Previously published in Alligator Jupiter, Fall 2002, and Poets Against the War, March 2003 You decide to paint something, a portrait, say, of Hitler reclining. Grove of red roses. Blue sky padded with glowing white cumuli. Your daughter’s doll between…
Read
Random Post

We the Pennies

The only change I’ve ever found in this damned world was some discarded pennies. I’ve found them in the alleyways, high on misplaced dreams. I’ve found them left on Wall Street, trashed by American greed. I’ve found them in grocery…
Read