August 3, 2016
LGBTQ Poets Respond to the Pulse Nightclub Shooting
Because I don't like to
dance anymore anyway odds are it'll just be
my gut and loneliness, lung and large
intestine eroding while I settle
into mattress undulation, toenails
echoing on stairs until I wake
up breathless, unsustainable. Still, once
or twice a strobe light's taken
the rhythm of my pulse, so
I can see it: squares of violet
light on the corner where she's locked
her hips to mine and something worse
than bass lines splitting kiss from air. We'd hurtle
towards the street that we
escaped by entering, spectres from seven minutes ago already
rushing to bleed where skin touched.
is a writer, arts educator, and writing coach. Her poetry and fiction have appeared in more than twenty journals, including Ballard Street Poetry Journal
(Pushcart Prize nomination), Bellevue Literary Review
(Pushcart Prize nomination), Cider Press Review, Hanging Loose, Santa Fe Writers Project
, and Printer's Devil Review
. Gemma's plays have been produced in Chicago, Boston, and New York, and she diablogs on sinnerscreek.com
. She has been awarded multiple artist's residencies from Catalonia to Virginia and a grant from the Barbara Deming Fund, and enjoys baking cookies and walking on stilts in her spare time. Her debut poetry collection We Might As Well Be Underwater
will be published by Unsolicited Press in 2017.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published weekly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.