poetry

Ripples of Darkness

A mother's hands stack clean needles, latex gloves.
For our children, she says, for the lost ones.
For the ones we've saved many times before,
For the ones we hope to save just one time more.

Why, neighbours ask while politicians gloat.
Why chain the monster only to offer our throats?
Why save a life to simply hand them the knife?

Do you see, can't you see, why can't you see?!

10 years to yes

this is my third war*

may 2009
if you can’t see me does it mean I don’t exist yes if you see me but you don’t see what makes me me does it mean you don’t see me yes if you cannot see that the thing that makes me me hurts burns ashes all over if you cannot see me shall I bother to stay alive no

Unveiling

Truth has started to call to me.

First, as wordless pain,
Turning in me quietly, pushing at my gut in the early dawn.

Truth is coaxing itself into the corners of my eyes.

 Truth is running down my cheeks, silently,
& falling down the stream of my neck,
into the hollows I have carved in my shoulders.

Truth is reminding me that my first language
was always         weeping.

they did

you don’t believe your queer friend could do this to your other queer friend.
you don’t believe your father could do this to your mother.
you don’t believe your mother could do this to your sibling.
you don’t believe your teacher could
you don’t believe your best friend could

Pages

Currently on Newsstands

  • Room 42.1, Magic
    Edited by Arielle Spence

    In this issue:

    Amy Louise Baker, Jenny Boychuk, Jessica Bromley Bartram, Monica Joy Claesson, Kess Costales, Sophie Crocker, Ruth Daniell, Alex Hall, Cody Klippenstein, Suzanne Langlois, Teresa E Lobos, Lynne M MacLean, Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Isabelle Nguyen, Gaëlle Planchenault, Melanie Power, Natasha Ramoutar, Nilofar Shidmehr, jaye simpson, Cristalle Smith, Emily Urquhart, Yilin Wang, Hannah V Warren, Christine Wei, Lan Yao

    .

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