When We Were Young
Each moment was thick,pearled into droplets,
not yet thinned.The clink of dishes. The rustle
of hymnal pages turning. Dust moteshovering in a sunbeam....
Easter Night
After a long sleep, I wake,long after the chill of sunrise services in parks,after high heels sinking into wet grass,after even late morning...
The Twin FawnsAfter Peregrine Honig’s The Twin Fawns
In the backroom of this clubmusic so loud you could neverhear the traffic, a drag queen downstairscollecting...
Violent Glamour
Cuchulainn, o ancient celtic drag queenstruts her stuff onto the plain, sashays across the battlefieldintent on sowing pain and reaping lumpen carcasseswhich to...
Marsha Olitsky is a poet living in Philadelphia. Bourgeon is delighted and honored to provide a home for her first publication. She writes:
Growing up...
There is in the Water
What happened here the history I mean thismean thing there right there the bridgewhere they were lynched and who elsewas there and this is always here Ito make them mean something and howcan inanimate objects say...
occupier artclasswindow is crackedopen to let fresh air in. outsidesunny schoolyard under
lovely cloudless sky,the kind of blue beggingto be licked and torn asunderby hungry...
