21st Century Problems: WWJBD or What Would Justin Bieber Do? (#16) (Louis Toliver Jr- Swartz, LA)

“If I was your boyfriend, I’d never let you go I can take you places you ain't never been before,” I sang along to Justin’s Bieber’s hit “Boyfriend” as I learned the moves from new Wii dancing/dating game, Justin Bieber: The Experience. It had finally arrived. I even got a new look to go with my much needed life change. I also quit all five of my jobs. I was jobless, but I looked good. I was one sexy African-American (Kenyan), Asian (Korean), Hispanic (Cuban), Caucasian (Scottish), Native American (Cherokee) America with manicured eyebrows and blond hair. Justin’s confidence was inspiration. She was the first young, open, lesbian rocking the charts. Everything about her screamed masculine boldness. Her hair, her use of a male name, her style, her public relationships with other female stars, and her wonder Bieber swag. I was in love with a lesbian. I was just about to begin a dating tips simulation on the game when my doorbell rang. Ugh, It was Nate, “Can I use your laptop and wifi?” I lied again, “Nate, I told you, since the beginning (*wink*:Episode 1 reference) that I don’t have internet.” Nate scoffed, “That’s not true. I caught a wifi signal the other day when I was jogging by with my Ipod…Nate stopped talking and look at the TV which had Bieber playing. “What are you doing?” I responded sassily, “Channeling the energy of my new inspiration. And yes, I know she’s a lesbian. And I am proud.” Nate looked confused, “That’s a teenage boy.” My heart sank. I stood in silence. The music continued in the background, “Na na na, na na na, na na na ey. Na na na, na na na, na na na ey. If I was your boyfriend.’ I thought the song was about a girl wanted to be in the boyfriend role. I am and more confused everyday.

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Louisiana Words Remembers Jorge Arturo

There’s nothing that hurts more than when we lose someone from our Louisiana Words family. But, the beauty of our writing movement is that the words of our loved ones live on with us. On June 20th, 2023, Louisiana Words Allstar, Jorge Arturo, moved on from this world leaving our hearts broken. He was a charismatic and talented human being. Jorge resided in New Orleans, LA and had been active on Louisiana Words for over a year. To honor Jorge’s life and work, we will be sharing his writing and live performances all Summer 2023. Please help keep his spirit alive by sharing his work. We know that Jorge’s words will connect with our readers and we hope to keep his spirit alive. Jorge’s first submission: “The Dog Show” debuted on February 6th, 2022 and is his most successful piece to date. In 2022, Jorge spent 10 weeks in the top with “The Dog Show,” “Weavers,” “They Say Love Kills, This Time It Really Did,” and “If Hell is Real, It Looks Like an Airport.” His last piece was “Fairy Tale

The Man Under the Water (TK Craft - New Orleans, LA)

Sitting at the edge of the small motorboat, Jordan willed himself to take deep slow breaths. Every time he opened his eyes and looked out at the endless water; panic began to overcome him. Against the vastness of the ocean his small frame felt like almost nothing, this sense only made his fear grow worse. All he could do was stare out at the still surface for what felt like hours trying to gather the strength to jump into the depths. When he was fifteen, Jordan almost drowned in the ocean. He hadn’t been particularly frightened of the water till that day. In fact, he had no real emotional connection to it at all. He’d taken swimming lessons every summer so when the riptide carried him further out to sea he didn’t panic. He just reoriented himself to the shore and dove down to begin a swim towards land. That’s when he saw him glistening in the depths. Jordan was proud of himself for sitting on the edge of the boat as long as he did. He spent the

Ash Wednesday (Brian Falcon - New Orleans, LA)

It’s forgettable- the number of times I was called a “fucking faggot” as a kid. As a former child of god, I wasn’t expected to know what those words meant. I was taught that repentance was vital to achieving everlasting life. My momma made me go to church every Sunday. I said my prayers as I was told. But I eventually learned that Catholicism was never my sanctuary. Christianity was never my safe-haven. God never stopped the cheap shots. He never once prevented the harassment or pure embarrassment that I felt from the words of my “kin in Christ.” Now, picture me- a helpless faggot, blinded by the incandescent lights of an old catholic church. I was home from college spending Spring Break in my former hellscape. So, naturally, my momma yet again made me go to church. This time, on a Wednesday. It was Ash Wednesday. When I was among the folks from home, I felt out of place. So much that I’d imagine camouflaging myself. Like saber-tooth in hiding. But the difference? I had a far more i

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