Just Like Him (Joseph Michael Benoit

Just Like Him (Joseph Michael Benoit - Iowa, LA)

My father's silence spoke volumes to me. It never mattered what we did when I was with him, just that I was with him.

Over the years, she who spawned me would shout at me in a curse, "You'll be just like your father!!"

Well, she was right in so many ways. I didn't/don't put up with her bullshit. In fact, I haven't seen or spoken to her since my step-father's funeral, 10+ years ago. I don't plan on speaking to her ever again, much less attend HER funeral. Fuck paying for it.

Yes, I am like my father. However, in 2 things I am different. I will not die at 58, by my son "adjusting" my morphine drip, because I don't have the strength to take care of it myself. In fact, I plan to live to twice that age, that I might "erase" those things which she adulterated.

I held my father as he died. I told him all of the things that he "couldn't" say to me. I told him how much I had and will ALWAYS love him.

He left for good reasons, just as he drank for good reasons. I know why he left. I know why he drank. I know that he loved me, no matter what.

That is more than I can or will ever say about "her."

What I did 20 years ago...I would do again today. Love of Life is about compassion, and Choice. I choose to Live, and to Love.

Maybe one day, I can afford to place his name upon the tomb in which he is buried. Until then, I know where to find him, and that is ALWAYS in my heart.

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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