OUTRAGE CONTEST: For My Sister

Mirri Glasson-Darling

MY SISTER, our tall blue spruce was not enough

though it had weathered windstorms and steel-wool tornados

the rat’s nests of our hair, and stood—Christmas lights

gleaming from our father’s lone cardboard cut-out of a star.

The day it finally lay down its branches—you lay without

drawstrings or shoelaces; silver-ringed spirals stripped

from the spines of your notebooks and our father stood

at the foot of your hospital bed with his arms helpless

at his sides. I watched the bark peel away from the crumbling

halls of our parents as they waited, knowing something

horrible must have happened to you, but unsure of what or why.

I would not dare speak the word then. It was too small

to mean such invasion, too strange a sound to touch

tongue to palette and bring to lips. All I dared to think

was just: That Boy. How I wished I were a son so I might

go and do what brothers do instead of daughters, grinding my molars

to sand as I held your secret, clenched tight between my teeth.




Nonfiction
Poetry

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The Search
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Paige Leland


Anything, Anywhere, Anytime
Yvette A. Schnoeker-Shorb


OUTRAGE CONTEST: To the Fourth Estate
Marianne Taylor


OUTRAGE CONTEST: For My Sister
Mirri Glasson-Darling

OUTRAGE CONTEST: My Mother Finally Tells Him Off
Sandra Inskeep-Fox


OUTRAGE CONTEST: Roe v. Wade
Alexis Beckford


OUTRAGE CONTEST: African American
Alexis Beckford


OUTRAGE CONTEST: Rebel Rebel
Sam Cross


OUTRAGE CONTEST: If I Am Guilty of Anything
Sam Cross


When Poems Sound Better in Times New Roman
Paige Leland


A Metaphor for how Trash Day Reminds Me that I’ll Never Be Alone No Matter How Hard I Try
Paige Leland


In The Dark
Alison Stone Eric Greinke


Petals and Roots
Alison Stone Eric Greinke


Fiction