FROM THE CORE OF OUR WORLD

by Angelica Whitehorne

The sad leaked like ripe fruit from the core of our world

The men in blue pepper sprayed a nine year old girl 

I don’t think the politicians, protected in suits, will save us

I don’t think these issues are something they’d care to discuss

 

We woke up to close the blinds against a wildfire world

The men in blue pepper sprayed a nine year old girl 

I don’t believe life ends at Black or starts at conception

I don’t believe in law enforcement’s redemption 

 

We live in the same country but different worlds

The men in blue pepper sprayed a nine year old girl

cops / defenders / bastards they’ll come for you too,

hit you hard in the streets if you step on their shoes

 

I sent a letter to the P.O. box of our homeless world

The men in blue pepper sprayed a nine year old girl 

We’ve been taught rights are something we can negotiate  

We’ve seen first hand our systems were contrived in hate

 

We stand outside and wave goodbye to a disappearing world

The men in blue pepper sprayed a nine year old girl

I wonder if there is a point where we’re past being saved 

If this marks a civilization too utterly depraved

 

I want so bad to rescue this reckless, refuge world

I want so bad to cover the eyes of the nine year old girl 

Open your own eyes and see where the real danger compiles

in our actions, in our violence, not in the fearful, backtalk of a child. 

 

What if we gather and release this knotted up, wounded world

and teach the next generation to protect all nine year old girls?

Am I too hopeful or can we confront it, our long past of disparity?

Am I too hopeful or can we grow them, our seeds of peaceful solidarity?

Angelica Whitehorne is a New York artist who writes poems, pieces of fiction, and stanza-formatted rants about the world we’re living in. She’s not creative enough to write about some other world, so this one is all she’s got. She has published or forthcoming work in The Laurel Review, The Cardiff Review, North Dakota Quarterly, Mantis, Ruminate, and Hooligan Magazine among others.

"PERHAPS YOU SHOULD ADOPT A MORE CONSERVATIVE POLITICAL ORIENTATION"

by Katherine West

In Memoriam for victims of the Rochester, New York shooting.

My doctor suggests after a complete physical 

He has failed to discover 

The source of my trouble 

Though I feel as if I will never recover 

He finds nothing in the blue pools of my eyes 

What could cause this endless weeping?

Blood pressure numbers don't lie

I will have a long time yet to live 

No medication for what ails me 

I am simply living inside-out 

He seems to imply, wearing my heart on my sleeve 

Where it has no business being, it has no clout 

In the streets, in the slums 

At the parties that are not fun 

Where students lie in pools of blood 

Too much love, he claims, not enough guns

Too much love, he claims, not enough guns 

Where students lie in pools of blood 

At the parties that are not fun 

In the streets, in the slums 

Where it has no business being, it has no clout 

He seems to imply, wearing my heart on my sleeve

I am simply living inside-out 

No medication for what ails me 

I will have a long time yet to live 

Blood pressure numbers don't lie 

What could cause this endless weeping?

He finds nothing in the blue pools of my eyes 

Though I feel as if I will never recover 

The source of my trouble 

He has failed to discover 

My doctor suggests after a complete physical 

"Perhaps you should adopt a more 

conservative political orientation."

Katherine West is the author of three collections of poetry and one novel: Scimitar Dreams, The Bone Train, Riddle, and Lion Tamer, respectively.  She has had poetry published in Bombay Gin, Lalitamba, Tanka Journal, Writing in a Woman’s Voice, and TheNewVerse.News who nominated her poem "And Then the Sky" for a Pushcart Prize in 2019.  She lives in the mountains outside of Silver City, New Mexico where she translates Mexican revolutionary poetry and creates custom, hand-made poetry chapbooks.