Train Whistle Summons (Madison Elizabeth Holland

Train Whistle Summons (Madison Elizabeth Holland - Lafayette, LA)

sometimes i lay awake and listen to the train whistle as it passes in the night
it is a comforting sound
it reminds me of my childhood in Crowley
when i was ten and we lived a few blocks from the tracks
i would listen to the train whistle while i tried to fall asleep
we lived in an old two story house that probably wasn't correctly insulated
so sounds whispered through the walls easily
i have several very specific memories of this time of my life
and they resurface when i hear that mournful wail

the time i lined up all my babydolls and wrote their names in crayon on the backs of their heads
the time i spied on my babysitter when i should have been asleep and saw her smoking a cigarette in our driveway
the time mom took away my blankie because i was "too old" for it and i found it and hid it in my pillowcase for 2 years
the time i took a shower with one of my best girl friends [early gay panic]
the time i stayed up all the way till midnight on my birthday
the time we got our wiggly lil weimaraner puppy Lucy
the time i stood in the front yard and yelled at God that if he was real he needed to send me a wild bird friend [he is not real]
the time dad took me on a boy scout camping trip even though i was a girl

funny how sounds summon memories from deep in our gray matter to the present
i remember how those wood floors felt under my bare feet, what the puppy felt like in my arms, rocking my crayon-tattooed babies to sleep....

Comments

Come Hither (Annette Redmond Walters - Lafayette, LA)

I meant it not this way but the tears just flow and my makeup smearing all the more, leaving behind that familiar filthy residue. I may have begun to drive myself away, dragging you down as well. But it's done, I've flipped the switch and now it's dark once more. How painful is the music to my ears, I can't stand to be alone in it, yet here I am again. I pray you fly back and safely and warmly to me, though I fear I've dug the grave too deeply. As the dirt shifts within my soul, I choke on those loving words I'd meant for you. All the fragments of light I see becoming smaller and I wish to be near you in your embrace that might make me feel the warmth I'm missing. And in reality, I doubt I'd breathe another breath without you. So come hither and quickly soothe my dying heart, you are the only cure I know. I cry and cry again, come hither to heal and love me. Come hither and help me dry my tears.

Let That Fucker Burn (John Chenvert - Napoleonville, LA)

Let that fucker burn. Let the fire crackle like the whips once did— like bone meeting leather, like screams swallowed by the trees. Let the white columns crumble to ash. Not as tragedy— but as truth, unearthing itself from beneath generations of silence. Nottoway is not a mansion. It’s a mausoleum. A lie carved in stone to honor the hands that held the whip, not the backs that bore it. They called it the “White Castle.” A place of beauty. A place for weddings, for photo ops, for pretending that horror can be made elegant if the curtains match the guilt. But no paint can cover what happened there. Blood doesn’t wash out with white linens. And pain doesn’t forget just because you renamed it history. I’m not Black. And I won’t pretend to carry that weight. But I also won’t ignore it. My people—the Guanches—were taken too. Our language silenced. Our land stolen. Our names nearly erased. So yes, I know colonization. Yes, I know what it means to be disappeared. But I also know this— my skin ...

Lunatic (Lily Lechler - New Orleans, LA)

“Lunacy” comes from the moon, Who cycles through brilliance and darkness Bipolarity’s patterns are not so easily assumed Opposites not so well harnessed Who cycles through brilliance and darkness? The girl who sits in bed, wrestling with Opposites. Not so well harnessed As she thought, her brain gives reason the slip The girl who sits in bed, wrestling with Her body, depressed, her thoughts manic. As she thought, her brain gave reason the slip And gives the gift of life in a dreamlike panic. Her body depressed her thoughts. Manic Lunacy comes from the moon And gives the gift of life in a dreamlike panic Bipolarity’s patterns are not so easily assumed

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