Nebraska Queer

For Juliet

F**k you Nebraska, you give me sickness, you took my blood -

I was only 17, small town lesbian. Such witch trial tragedy, you killed my lover.

What is the dirt of me, what is the angel in God rags. She hates f**s.

Someone should have known better. I was small then - 14 candles old.

I was bleeding at 12, my red panties washed the cut of my sexuality.

Hid the smears. My friend carried the harlot gun, I used to share her.

I saw Juliet, at 13, she pecked me -

It tasted like something, not sweet, pepper, or bitter poppy seeds.

He held me down on Easter day, and blacked out my queerness -

He said for me to slit small hearts and touch gray. To know the pure love of His love.

I looked at the clock and the hands felt my chest - my unsung n*****s flattened.

I fell into glass splinters -

Became ice glints -

A little girl of no consequence. I faded plump; my teeth a somnolent metal.

I am drifting off to sleep. She was the everyone -

A kettle whistles in the kitchen. A hair-shirt. A bead of sweat.

I love the taste of a cool Nebraska night. It tastes like orange crush -

Like opium on my lips.

Reviews

[h d e rushin]

before I read this I ate Doretoes till my gums hurt.

Hesperides is the only place for pride. I love the theme here. Youth, accupying the empty shells
of love and verboden sexuality. Good write and image filled.

Me and Sexton
were lovers.

dana

There is music to your words Rosie... even if so frustrated, and full with doubt, anger, and pain... you fight against all what is forbidden, and seems not acceptable... When you're here in the Netherlands you shall feel home, I can assure you :) Freedom of speach, freedom of love, freedom of all... I feel the hurt, pain frustration through the words my friend... it hurts a little by reading it.

There is still music, unpredictable too you are, but always also ending up with the right "Sigh" and rest, I hope you end up with.... You write raw beautiful, and pure poetry, I did enjoyed this piece, dear friend...

There is something truly magical about your words.
((HUGS)) and come by soon for more of you!

- Elisa

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this reminds me of Anne Sexton somewhat..she would like this piece...

i did my masters thesis on her and Plath....

good stuff here...especially on a reread.

[iliOZ]

i was always wondering how the crucifix was invented.
i wonder no more

[Pryde Foltz]

What an intense write of anger and love. The anger is what gives it fire and the love the meaning. I proudly call myself an ally. Let no child die or feel even one moment of shame for who they are. Write on Roaslind.

[Anand Sehgal]

did you write it from some sort of First Hand trauma ?
It was vivid and intense

[...]

Rosalind I'm never disappointed when I visit you! I know it's been a while. I haven't forgotten your dig and bite though girl. I practice no religion, nor do I give a rats a*s about anyone's sexual preference. I actually like differences and character. I really like character, and you my dear have A LOT of it :) So good to read you again and I shall return...

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlande..]

"happiness is a warm gun" just came onto my beatles mix on shuffle
there's a lot of power in the clock and the kettle, and I forget what that
literary device is called,
but it's important like other things my memory doesn't understand
I'm gonna coin a phrase "visceral clarity"...it lends contrast
transforming what could potentially be numbness and suppression
our society is taught to hero-worship skill, but I'm a selective buyer, I guess
the heart can uncover skill, keep it limber. exploit it narcissistically
it can do a lot of things
I think I'm done rambling incessantly..
a brave and powerful piece of literature
any phrasing that isn't perfect, from a literary standpoint
I say, keep it

[eglantine]

Wooooow Rosalind--this is amazing. So many great images and wording. Still a bit rough; polish it (trim the fat) and you've def got something here. Thank you so much for sharing this piece.