TAKING ONE FOR THE TEAM

by Laurie Kuntz 

As Air Force Maj. Jason Watson ascended the Capitol steps last week wearing his military uniform and armed with one protest sign, he knew the risks and was prepared for the consequences, no matter how severe. —Military Times, July 9, 2026

Under July's brazen sun,

independently standing on Capitol steps

one would expect this uniformed man to be waving a flag

instead of 3 words etched on cardboard -- 

The truths that weave a country's fabric

stipulate the deeper cut of accusation

and the absence of a moral center.

A country watches a man in medaled attire

being cuffed and  led away 

surrounded by the silence of the timid 

too afraid to speak:

Impeach

Convict

Remove.

Laurie Kuntz is a four-time Pushcart Prize nominee and two-time Best of the Net Nominee. In 2024, she won a Pushcart Prize. Her 8th poetry book Shelter In Place is published by Shanti Arts Press. She holds an MFA in poetry from Vermont College. Her work has been published in Gyroscope Review, Roanoke Review, Third Wednesday, One Art, Sheila Na Gig, SWWIM, and other journals and anthologies. Her themes stem from working with Southeast Asian refugees, living as an expatriate in Japan, the Philippines, Thailand, Brazil, and raising a husband and son.

MY DEAD FRIEND’S SON POSTS FROM A BOMB SHELTER IN TEL AVIV

by Laurie Kuntz

I can remember you and your dad strolling
the beach, crab hunting.
I was close by teaching my son
not to fear waves going over his head.
You were both four—friends and schoolmates.
 
As parents, we were only 
concerned with keeping
sons safe and sane.
 
When your family immigrated to Tel Aviv,
I admonished your dad for taking you 
from a melting pot into fire.
A mensch from Boston, 
bringing up a son by the beach
would be enough for most. 
 
Three decades later,
your dad is gone and you post
ramblings of war from a bomb shelter,
numbers of the missing, injured, and dead—
 
Today your post is shorter, the news is the same
the sirens—louder, the numbers—rising
while the world becomes immune
our gasps less forceful
as we scroll down giving a thumbs up 
to  blooming gardens, exotic recipes, and all 
that is coming soon to a theater near you.
Anything to alleviate the burden of responsibility.

Laurie Kuntz  has published two poetry collections (The Moon Over My Mother’s House, Finishing Line Press and Somewhere in the Telling, Mellen Press), and three chapbooks (Talking Me Off The Roof, Kelsay Books, Simple Gestures, Texas Review Press, and Women at the Onsen, Blue Light Press). Simple Gestures, won the Texas Review Poetry Chapbook Contest, and Women at the Onsen won the Blue Light Press Chapbook Contest.  Her 6th poetry book, That Infinite Roar, will be published by Gyroscope Press at the end of 2023. She has been nominated for three Pushcart Prizes and a Best of the Net Prize. Her work has been published in Gyroscope Review, Roanoke Review, Third Wednesday, One Art, Sheila Na Gig, and many other literary journals.  She currently resides in Florida, where everyday is a political poem waiting to be written.

THE WIND SPEAKS

by Laurie Kuntz

“I have lost my name and I have lost my reputation.” 

-Ruby Freeman

The wind speaks your name

and carries it into crevices

where only the wind can go

 

far from your calling,

and you find yourself 

begging for the return

of all who called you Lady.

 

Witness your life breaking,

see loss and corruption corralled

in a gust of swirling air.

Struggle to end each day

not with the same stare tasking sadness,

but with a vision of some new thing.

 

Comes a June awakening,

a solstice wind makes chimes spin,

spreads a crimson sheet of plum blossoms over grey streets

and changes your moods, cools an anger,

makes you hear the song of stones sweeping red earth away.

 

You can see a clearing

in the horizon, get a different view

as the wind slaps you in an embrace,

and carries back your name.

Laurie Kuntz is a widely published and award winning poet. She has been nominated for a Pushcart and Best of the Net prize. She has published two poetry collections, The Moon Over My Mother’s House (Finishing Line Press) and Somewhere in the Telling (Mellen Press), two chapbooks, Simple Gestures (Texas Review) and Women at the Onsen (Blue Light Press). Her 5th poetry collection Talking Me off the Roof is forthcoming from Kelsay Press in late 2022. Many of her poems are a direct result of working with refugees in refugee camps soon after the Vietnam War years.  Recently retired, she lives in an endless summer state of mind. 

DARNELLA'S DUTY

by Laurie Kuntz

Darnella Frazier is the brave young woman who filmed the murder of George Floyd on May 25, 2020. The artwork is from the official Peace and Healing for Darnella Fund at gofundme.

How does it feel to be 17,
and just want to hold your life in your
glistening palm, go to the corner
and buy a sparkling water to quench
a parched mouth that longs to sing?

How does it feel to witness
a purpose too cruel
for all your 17 rotations
around a sun you only want to bask in?

How does it feel to beg a name,
witness a life breaking,
while your opened ebony eyes,
see loss and corruption corralled
to the borderless sky?

And, how does the humid wind feel
as you watch it carry one man's life
to a crevice where only the wind can go?

Laurie Kuntz is an award-winning poet and film producer. She taught creative writing and poetry in Japan, Thailand and the Philippines. Many of her poetic themes are a result of her working with Southeast Asian refugees for over a decade after the Vietnam War years. She has published one poetry collection (Somewhere in the Telling, Mellen Press) and two chapbooks (Simple Gestures, Texas Review Press and Women at the Onsen, Blue Light Press), as well as an ESL reader (The New Arrival, Books 1 & 2, Prentice Hall Publishers). Her poetry has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and her chapbook Simple Gestures won the Texas Review Poetry Chapbook  Contest. She was editor in chief of Blue Muse Magazine and a guest editor of Hunger Mountain Magazine.  She has produced documentaries on the repeal of the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell Law and currently is producing a documentary on the peace process and reintegration of guerrilla soldiers in Colombia. She is the executive  producer of an Emmy-winning short narrative film Posthumous. Recently retired, she lives in an endless summer state of mind.