FRENCH MEAT PIE

by Michelle Valois

 

 

French meat pie is a greasy wonder of pork, beef, and onion, filling a pie crust that is flaky and buttery. Some parts of French Canada add potatoes, some breadcrumbs. Either way, the additions were intended to stretch the meat, which you had to do if you were poor. My family used breadcrumbs.
 
My Mai Mai taught my mother and she taught me. These days, though, with one of my children vegan, I make a meatless meat pie, using mushrooms and lentils as a substitute for the meat. My relatives and other purists are appalled, but it’s actually not bad.

This vegan daughter of mine is also queer, and all three of my children are Jewish, as is my partner. I just found out that if you can prove that a grandparent was born in Canada you can apply for Canadian citizenship. If what is happening in Minnesota becomes the norm, we may just have to return to the motherland of meat pies, maple syrup, and ice hockey. I hope they won’t mind how I have tinkered with one of their national dishes in the three generations that my family has thrived in this so-called land of the free, but it appears that it is no longer free, which it never really was for people of color; now, though, it’s only free if you are white and MAGA.

My grandparents left their farms in Canada for a better life in the factories of New England. They could never have dreamed that their granddaughter would become a college professor, marry a woman, and be able to afford all the pork and beef she wants (but chooses mushrooms and lentils), the American dream come true.

My father fought fascists in Germany. He could never have dreamed that his children and grandchildren would have to fight them here on American soil, the American dream turned nightmare.

Meatless meat pie? You can make anything, really, without meat, but you can’t make a life without freedom.

Michelle Valois' work has appeared in The Massachusetts Review, The Florida Review, TriQuarterly, Pank, Brevity, and others. A chapbook My Found Vocabulary was published in 2017 (Aldrich). She lives in Massachusetts and teach at a community college.

THE TRUMP ADMINISTRATION IS MAKING ME

by Thomas DeFreitas

queer. Therefore, I intend to fight

fascism with flamboyance.

I will swirl about America

in Deborah Kerr's dress from The King and I

and warble in my blithest trill 

getting to know you,

getting to know all about you...

 

The Trump Administration

is turning me gayer than Morrissey.

Learn to hate me, you cancerous fuckers.

Assemble the goddamn ways.

 

I will be bi, pan,

voile et vapeur, AC/DC,

gleefully switch-hitting, a three-dollar bill.

I will blare Culture Club at Republican lawmakers,

I will Bowie and Freddie them into submission.

I will glitter the evangelicals, curtsy

to Oklahoma deacons. I will strew

pink carnations and heart-shaped confetti

on the asphalt trodden by ICE.

 

I will incense the icons of Keith and Renée

and all the others whose names go unreported.

I will vanquish the murderers with the B-52s, Elton John,

Alicia Bridges, Dusty Springfield,

the Pet Shop Boys, the Communards.

I will preach and prooftext, in season, out of season,

with the limber cadenzas of Ginsberg,

with the dapper iambics of Auden,

with the plaintive ballads of Lorca.

 

I will be the filthy limerick

in your Epistle to the Romans,

the drag queen at your prayer breakfast,

the non-binary poet in your Department of War.

I will take your Supreme Court

and Diana Ross it to a timely and fabulous death.

Thomas DeFreitas (he/him/his) was born in Boston in 1969. He was educated at the Boston Latin School, and attended the University of Massachusetts in Amherst for three calamitous semesters. He has published five collections with Kelsay Books, including Elegies & Devotions (2025) and Winter in Halifax (2021). His latest, Consider, is seeking a publisher. Thomas is a resident of Arlington, Massachusetts, and (along with his scores of poetfriends) is currently plotting to take over the explorable universe and permeate it with lyrical benevolence.

GREETINGS FROM ARKANSAS

by Mohja Kahf

Lake Wilson, Fayetteville, Arkansas. Photo by the poet.

Thirty years I’ve taught in Arkansas

Sometimes in Arkansas I paddle the lake

under foliage forty-three shades of glory and jade,

as kinetic as my students’ creativities,

and the state forges fetters for thinking minds:

Act 372 tried to make queer library books a crime,

but it turned out Act 372 was a crime

 

Thirty years I’ve curated space for students

to think through choices, weighing in hand,

like palming the heft of Lake Sequoyah pebbles

before picking one to skip across the surface

The state puts hands on our bodies now:

Arkansas Act 180 makes abortion illegal

even after rape, killing more than choice

 

Thirty years I’ve taught in Arkansas

where ice makes bright blades of branches in winter

while daffodils sunshine up through the snow

Forgetting that we live on colonized land,

my state lets ICE deport dreamers

and taxpaying international students,

but defends a mob that scorched the nation’s capital

 

Thirty years I’ve mattocked rocks to upturn soil

where love can grow, and imagination

Act 710 calls boycotting Israel antisemitic hate

makes anyone who wants to speak on campus sign

a pledge never to boycott Zionist Israel—

I’m a proud supporter of nonviolent boycott,
and Act 710 is antisemitic and hateful

 

Sometimes I float the swim hole near Ponca,

thanking my friends who saved the Buffalo River

from hog carcass dumps by agribusiness

till the next polluter tramps in these waters

The state claims that wanting justice for Palestinians 

means wanting to trample on Jewish peoples—

I wish the state would read a queer Palestinian library book

 

Sometimes in Arkansas I hike Hemmed-in-Hollow

and the sunset is streaked purple and healing

My state produces white phosphorus for Israel

to streak skies in Gaza and Lebanon, over Arab folk’s homes

Sometimes my state breaks federal law:

the Leahy Act forbids weapons for war crimes

White phosphorus on civilians is a war crime

even if the civilians aren’t white

 

Thirty red-gold autumns I’ve taught in Arkansas

planting bulbs that push through thirty springtimes

The white phosphorus arsenal risks workers’ health

in Arkansas’ Blackest and poorest city in the Delta

Act 237 calls teaching critically about racism a shame,

calls what I do on campus indoctrination:

Act 237 is a shame and indoctrination

 

Thirty years I’ve taught in Arkansas,

more hemmed in than ever, and hollow here ring

guarantees of First Amendment freedoms

If I invite a white phosphorus expert to campus,

they’d have to sign a loyalty pledge to Israel

Sometimes I hear the queer purple music of the Ozarks,

and the state forges fetters for thinkers and dreamers

Mohja Kahf is author of a novel and three poetry books, including My Lover Feeds Me Grapefruit. Kahf’s work has been translated to Turkish, Japanese, Italian, Arabic, German, Portuguese, Urdu, and French. She is a supporter of the Palestinian-led nonviolent movement for Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions since that movement’s inception in 2005. Winner of a Pushcart Prize and a 2018 Lifetime Award in Inclusive Education from the Northwest Arkansas Democratic Black Caucus, Kahf has been a professor of comparative literature and Middle Eastern studies at the University of Arkansas since 1995. 

WHAT I NEED TO HEAR

by Stacie Somerset

Two weeks before the election, I visited my hometown—

a conservative Texas suburb of little appeal.

I went to see two queer YouTubers I’d grown up watching.

The YouTubers came out five years ago, shortly after I came out.

Their fanbase is queer and liberal, even in Texas.

At the show they dressed in the queerest outfits they’d ever worn

and announced proudly, “Yes, we are dressed like this. IN TEXAS!”

The audience went wild.

The queer joy was unparalleled. 

I looked at the cheering fans around me and thought,

These are my people.

My people.

I belong here.

After every election, everyone jokes about eliminating the red states.

“Imagine if all the people in Texas, Oklahoma, and Florida just died”

“The country would be so much better without them”

“Those places are hellholes anyway”

And fuck, part of me agrees—Texas is a hellhole,

but it’s a hellhole full of my people.

Good people, queer people, liberal people who can’t leave

or choose to stay and fight.

Part of me is proud of them,

and ashamed I didn’t stay to fight with them.

Over four million Texans voted blue.

Over six million Texans voted red, true,

but four million people is SO MANY PEOPLE.

Too many people to dismiss or ignore.

I will always remember that I can go to Texas

and be surrounded by liberal love and queer joy.

Hate won, but we still exist.

We exist everywhere

—even in the darkest hellholes—

and they cannot erase us.

Stacie Somerset lives in Athens, Ohio with their wife, dog, and two tortoises. They recently received a PhD in English/Creative Writing from Ohio University. Their work has appeared in Arts Against Extremism and elsewhere.

TOKYO OLYMPIC PRIDE

by Stephen House

Medal count at the Tokyo Summer Olympics is something we’ve watching. And this year, there has been an LGBTQ rainbow twist. We at Outsports tracked them as though they were a country: Team LGBTQ. Imagine if all of the publicly out lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer and nonbinary athletes were on one team representing one country with common causes of visibility and inclusion. That’s how we covered this collective group of inspiring out athletes. The final standing: Team LGBTQ ranked 7th overall, just ahead of Netherlands, France, Germany and Italy. —Outsports, August 10, 2021. Photo: Gold medalist Ana Marcela Cunha of Brazil poses after the women's 10-kilometer marathon swimming at Odaiba Marine Park in Tokyo on Aug. 4.Clive Rose / Getty Images via NBC News.

for many LGBTQI people world-wide

it is the story of the week

maybe for some

the story of the year

of their life

 

discrimination / abuse / inequality / oppression / exclusion

hits hard

 

at least one hundred and eighty two

queer identifying athletes were at the Tokyo Olympics

publicly out

gay / lesbian / bisexual / transgender / queer / gender-nonconforming

athletes

some of them using the Olympic platform

to come out

in Tokyo

 

representing many sports

archery / basketball / beach volleyball / BMX freestyle / BMX racing / boxing / canoe / cycling / diving / equestrian / fencing / field hockey / golf / gymnastics / handball / judo / rhythmic gymnastics / rowing / rugby / sailing / softball / skateboarding / soccer / swimming / shooting / table tennis / taekwondo / tennis / track and field / trampoline / volleyball / water polo / weightlifting / wrestling / triple jump

from many countries

 

Italy / Belgium / USA / Puerto Rico / Australia / Canada / Brazil / Ireland / Philippines /  Britain / New Zealand / Denmark / Netherlands / France / South Africa / Sweden / Germany / Israel / Mexico / Poland / Argentina / Cyprus / Chile / Peru / Tonga / Finland / Trinidad / India / Venezuela

 

impartiality / kindness / equality / acceptance / inclusion

is human  

 

at least one hundred and eighty two

queer identifying athletes at the Tokyo Olympics

should make the entire world proud

Tokyo Olympics was also Tokyo Pride

 

for many LGBTQI people world-wide

Tokyo Olympic Pride

gives hope

 

Stephen House has won many awards and nominations as a poet, playwright and actor. He’s received several international literature residencies from The Australia Council for the Arts and an Asia-link India residency. His chapbook real and unreal was published by ICOE Press. He’s published often and performs his acclaimed monologues widely.

FOR LAWRENCE KING

by Danielle Shorr





It is valentines day again
Larry is putting on his black boots
zipping them up smoothly,
he knows a thing or two about confidence,
how to swing his hips with an internal rhythm,
kick up his heels as he walks past a crowd.

These boots are like ones he used to wear
but the latest edition
bought with the paycheck from his new job-
he is proud today.

This queerness has always been
a heart without a name,
worn loudly,
second nature.

Makeup done
full face with
brows arched higher than his dreams for the future-
he has many.

We don't know where he is going tonight
maybe to a bar on Santa Monica Boulevard
or a house party adorned by candy hearts and balloons
or maybe on a date

It could be his first or more likely it isn't because he loves
to talk and smile and his friends swear he can
make anyone see light in a dim room
he’s walked through many
but has learned how
to sway against the darkness

Today Larry is 24
or he would've been
had the bullet not met
the back of his head that day
9 years ago in computer class

I wonder about his plans
like they’re still a possibility

I wonder about him the same way
my mother asks if I got home safely from a night class
there is more fear than optimism
and his fate feels almost inevitable
with the way the years have unraveled since his death

Fifty bodies on a night club floor
still isn't enough to warrant protection-
pride,
still a synonym for target

They say humanity is getting better
but we still haven’t heard acknowledgement
and it doesn’t matter how vocal you are
because the silencing will always be louder

This institution is deafening
our sensitivity to noise has diminished-
when was the last time you heard his name in a classroom?

2008 was the year of the swine flu
never ending headlines about things that kill
not one mentioned hatred

Since her start in slam poetry at the age of 17,  Danielle Shorr has continued to write with consistency. From competing at Brave New Voices in 2014, to placing as a finalist for the title of Los Angeles Youth Poet Laureate, Danielle has built a resume on experience and passion. As an undergraduate student at Chapman University, Danielle has helped bring student poetic voice to the university, co-founding the first poetry club in 2015. In 2016, Danielle published her first full book of poetry Beyond Existing.

STUD MUFFIN

by James Penha

“A bull branded gay, has been saved from the slaughterhouse by charity donations, including £5,000 from Sam Simon, co-creator of the Simpsons. . . . Benjy, from County Mayo, Ireland, was destined for the abattoir after showing more interest in breeding with other bulls than cows." --BBC News, November 18, 2014. Photo by Joanna McNicholas accompanying the BBC story.

The great white bull is no Moby Dick:
no taste for violence, no hunger
for limbs, no desire to judge black
from his own white, no passion
for bovine of the opposite sex; just
a yen for grass and peace
and an eye for the other studs.
The farmer called it queer, raised
his arms to slaughter this beast
that knows nothing of appetites.


James Penha edits The New Verse News.

QUEER MUSIC

by Tom Lennox

In the ice dancing competition in the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics, Russia’s bronze medalists Nikita Katsalapov and Elena Ilinykh “brought down the house with their performance to Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake.”

They chose the queer for their music
to dance upon the ice
queer ice
deep and Russian
dense with dreams
with the thrill of passion’s thaw
a triumphant heart
beating beneath the ice
Russian heart
queer heart
within the swan
black swan beset by
the magician
black heart
his veins too
Russian passion
queer passion
that slices
through the ice
lifting the heart like a waltz
queer waltz


Tom Lennox’s poems have appeared in Miriam’s Well and The New Verse News. He has published two chapbooks, Aerial Acts and Once Twice. He lives by a creek in a wildlife region in southwest Florida.