Writing is an act of resistance
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The Mind-Plough
domestic violence, intimate partner violence, gender roles, Christina Hennemann, male gaze, health equityBy Christina Hennemann We rest on this earth where they once ploughed, the sweat and laughs formed freckles under the sun and soil sloppy on shoelaces; my mother stumbled over a rock, stitches on cheek, her needle and thread that sewed my socks, my curtains, shade from the blazing truth out there, we’re invading…
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Campers Rarely Drown at the YMCA
By Janna Miller At camp, Julie told me I had to let her scratch my arms until they bled to be friends, and Julie told me to get lost in the woods or she wouldn’t talk to me, and Julie told me to do something I forget what, but I signed up for a…
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This Time, Ukraine
By Mercedes Lawry Beneath the ground a green thunder, roots weave among limbs of the fallen, so war digs and swallows and the birds still etch the smoking sky. Prayers falter, disappear. How do we watch from afar, our fingers twitching, our thoughts but ashes? Hopeless it seems as the rusty wheel of history…
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Welcome to Writers Resist, the June 2023 Issue
Summer’s upon us, and wild flowers have painted California’s landscapes brilliant. The flowers’ seeds can lie dormant for decades, emerging only when their soil is disturbed. While the works in this issue have been inspired by seemingly countless disturbances confronting us today, may the poppies inspire hope and action. In the meantime, we’re delighted to…
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Two Poems
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The Rise of a Martyr
By Bänoo Zan For Nika Shakarami 1 At your memorial 2 the Luri 3 song echoed on speakers: “Mother, mother, it’s time for war . . .” 4 Today would have been your birthday Forty days before on the streets of Tehran dead girl—living God— burning your hijab— darkness on fire— your Derafsh-e Kavian…
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The Revolution Is Wherever We Are
By Andrea Dulanto I. Yes, I wore the thrift store T-shirts, the torn fishnets, but I was no riot grrrl. I was already in my twenties when I read about riot grrrls in Newsweek, too old to write manifestoes on my body. No, it was more like I was too afraid of music that gets…
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Birthday Wishes
By Phoenix Ning Sixteen-year-old person of color desires escape from this inferno where dark-skinned individuals burn, and alabaster spectators cheer from the sidelines, popping confetti guns and feeding oil to ancient flames while claiming to be long-awaited saviors. Eighteen-year-old student desires world history classes with curriculums that celebrate African kingdoms, Indigenous empires, and South…
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(Judges 19) Remembering the Concubine
By Emma Goldman-Sherman After being done to by the pack of men after she collapsed at the threshold of the old man’s shack after her master discovered her there unresponsive he cut her up with his sharpened axe not for nothing, not for hate, to get everyone’s attention crying the way men cry when…