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 Mar 2013 Arlene Bozich
Ugo
I remember the morning Tuesday was invented—
how gleeful we sang across the streets—
forgetting that the day after tomorrow would be Thor’s day
and that one we didn’t own, too.

I remember the bathroom stalls, the sins of Leviticus
we survived
comforting our confusion with the indulgence that God too
love man, kind.

Let the purgatory full of half good men sing about their sins
with pride and laugh at the moons and stars for being without limbs
and tongues to protest their innocence and Idontgiveadamnisms;


For I remember being fed the tenets of heterosexual history in elementary school
yet wondering why queer gods are the ones named after the planets.
In the loving memory of David Kato Kisule (c. 1964 – January 26, 2011)
*If We Keep On Hiding Away, They Will Say We Are Not Here*
 Mar 2013 Arlene Bozich
Sarah D
If I were to die tonight,
    would you be alright?
Karma came back full blast
    and I knew I couldn't last.
All I can do is wait for fate
    to take me away and never let go.
So if I leave you alone
      and never come home
Would you be ok?
           Cause I've gone insane.
                      I've gone insane.
                      I've gone insane.
And the secrets are eating my brain
My final breathe is leaving my chest
                       and
I can feel my soul getting ready to go,
        but I really need to know,
             will you be fine once I am gone?
When there is nothing left but
      the thoughts of my past
and there is nothing new of what i will do.
Will you be the same?
Voice from a mountain
Voice from the sea
Voice from the man I call God
Voice that is calling me
and the voice that is me

Tell me my friend
Tell me now
Tell  me where it will all end
Tell please do tell.

Where will it all end
Voice that is only me.
Discernment of facts escape a blind eye
Incalculable deceit fell upon naive assumptions of decorum

Virtues so easily replaced by a blanket of colorful chattel
Now, countless blankets dance about, as ghosts
on a paved route chosen with intent of endless future passage
And now, to escape the realm of falsities
every eventide is exchanged for repose and closed eyes

Pleasure, promises, and poetry she gave
only to have something to take away
In vengeance of a caustic past
Aphrodite unleashed artful malevolence into a fallen heart

Oh, how so much exists
where there is nothing
Emptiness can be full of such desire
And oh, the bitter taste of sweet words
from the unrestrained lips of a liar

An offering cloaked with savory fruit in cordial hands
Swearing to give it all in the big apple
and then seducing to her roots in the yard
Absorbing a soul
Only to create a martyr of forlorn cause

An abomination can appear so sweet
when emptiness needs filling
A demon from below,
delightful,
before killing

Nostalgia, a trail of footsteps in the mud
Like a fingerprint with an unquestionable owner
Arduous wails reaching the extents of one's universe
as a pawn and patriarch share reflection in the stagnant tide

knowledge of good and evil, once a desire, now a curse
yet, finally held
Gratefully numb with inescapable acceptance

Scott Mitchell
09 Dec 2012
Put your hand on your heart, feel
and close your eyes
Would something change
when your eyes open
if I'm one step closer?

Listen with one ear, absorb
crashing waves on the shore
What sound prevails
if my deep voice
softly spoke in the other?

Feel the cooling breeze, enhance
the touch of my warm hands
What would be the answer
if my eyes are demanding
I need you tonight

I know you are out there, somewhere
perhaps silent as you sit and wonder
Asking where tomorrow will take you
Hoping for the love to save
and from the routine, an escape

I'll come faster than lightning strikes
and we won't think about tomorrow
You'll be the only star of my sky
forevermore
if you only send me a sign

Scott Mitchell
2013
 Jan 2013 Arlene Bozich
AS
children
 Jan 2013 Arlene Bozich
AS
How do you explain

to your children that the

horrors of the world are real?

How will I tell my son, We

found a place you can call home but

your bus might not make it to school.

Do not look too Jewish in this part of town

Do not play in the train station

Do not get used

to the weight

of a machine gun.

Or look my

daughter in the eye and say, someday

you might say “no” and someone stronger than you might

not listen

You will not tell me

Know that this happens a lot

Know that your wrists pinned against a

backboard will

echo in the way you move your hands

for as long as you let it

But

human hands aren’t as heavy as metal shackles

And I’m so sorry

but I won’t be able to

take the weight for you

You’ll wake up in the morning

That I can promise you

You’ll wake up

and your lungs will fill with air

whether you tell them to or not.

One day

I will hold someone

small, with my face

and they’ll cry and I’ll say,

*I know.

I know you’re tied with little yarn strings to the last life

I know it hurts to be here and

(honestly)

you’re never going back

But

the older you get the less you’ll remember

what it was like

before you had a body

when you were made of ash and infinite light

You’ll convince yourself you live here and

that your hands are you,

But remember that once you were boundless

Inside my body, without yours.
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