Outcome

TheFeatheredSleep – A wager lost, very lost.

TheFeatheredSleep

lungs of hte worldShe came into town

breathless with excitement

they were dying around her

but she wanted to go for coffee

to get her nails done, her hair, wax the city

burn the little temples of obedience

she didn’t think a swath of fabric

let alone standing apart like courting

birds

could slow the spread of something

fictional

she was young, though not as young as others thought

Botox took care of that

and a little filler

her heart was set on

kicking up her heals and the virus

was just a news cycle

nothing to take seriously.

Waking in hospital she

momentarily forgot to

smooth her hair down until

she felt her fingers brittle and cracked

her beautiful face marred with fever

“at least I survived” she smiled

with yellowed teeth, hot with flux

half joking at the scared nurse who

was working her second double shift.

They decided not to…

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SAVE DEMOCRACY: VOTE! Find out How and Make it Count

Calico Jack – voting info resources

The Psy of Life

The November election is coming up quite soon. It is within 80 days depending on which side of the international dateline you’re on. That means your secretary of state is making her voter registration rolls and is checking them twice trying to find out who to strike! She sees you when you’ve voted. And she knows where your precinct is. She knows whether you’re likely to vote Dem or not, so make sure you’re registered to vote for goodness sake!

See what I did there? Pretty clever, hunh?

You don’t? You don’t see it? Well, you know, it’s like the secretary of state is Santa Claus and he’s making his list and checking it twice like certain Repube SoS are doing with their voter rolls only they don’t care if you were naughty or nice just whether you’re likely to vote Dem or Repube and they’ll strike you if you’re…

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Getting your Neighbors to Mask-up: Ambiguity Tolerance and Intolerance

Calico Jack – The roots of Mask Resistance

The Psy of Life

There are some very solid findings in psychology, so we have a very reliable notion of how we respond to ambiguity. The bottom line is that when we are in novel situations like the novel #COVID19 pandemic, we aren’t sure what to do, so we look to those around us for guidance.

This one phenomenon of ambiguity — if you’re interested in the supporting science, I’ll explain further below — does two things for us: (1) it tells us how to get greater mask compliance and (2) explains why some people are not only being non-compliant, but also, irrationally, aggressively, and violently non-compliant.

Examples of Anti-Masker Stupidity

Violence against Line Workers Enforcing Company Policy

A teenager working at a children’s park was punched in the face for trying to enforce the park’s mask rule. Yeah…

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From The Black Naught

Kindra M. Austin shares a taste of The Black Naught

I wasn’t ready to start my day. I wanted to stay in bed, wrapped up in Peter, and watch the rise and fall of white cotton sheets for a little while longer. Or close my eyes and go back to dreaming. In my sweet sleep, you were sat on the beach, building sandcastles and exhaling gusts of wind so strong, you sent the clouds sailing across the sky. You were wearing that ugly hand-me-down bathing suit. The pink one with daisies printed all over.

Rising orange-pink sunlight penetrated my eyelids, and I turned away from the window. The birds sang, and their songs filled me with dread. I thought of the entity—the sentinel thing. A shadow hovered above me, and I was afraid to open my eyes again. I wasn’t afraid I’d see the black naught’s non-eyes nodding off—it had abandoned me years ago—but afraid of your accusatory milky ones…

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Charlottesville, Virginia August 12, 2017

Christine Ray – Empty Shoes

Brave & Reckless

my survivor’s brain does not try
to process man’s inhumanity to man
whole anymore
it scans the image
trying to make sense of the puzzle pieces
a car
bodies frozen in flight
accidental aerialists
a beautiful tattoo on a contorted back
black truck parked to the right
the horrified and incredulous looks
on the faces of the onlookers
oddly it’s the shoes that my brain focuses on
you really can be knocked out of your shoes
when a man behind a wheel of car
makes it a weapon
accelerates deliberately
callously
perhaps madly
into a crowd of counter-protesters

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved

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Daddy, I Was Angry, Too

Kindra M. Austin – Paper v. Scissors – Scissors win

I was angry, too,

so I sat down beside her in the mauve painted bedroom.

Your face lay in fragments,

strewn about the floor.

The carpet was brown,

and worn too thin.

Loose threads tickled my bare legs.

I crossed my legs,

and selected a photo album.

The kitchen shears felt good in my irrational young hands.

I lifted you from a yellowed page,

and considered the length of your hair.

You looked like the Catholic Jesus Christ, and I decided

I quite liked the sarcasm.

I thought no more

about ruining such a fine image of you and your AMC Javelin.

Instead, I selected something forgettable.

She watched me with wet red eyes and a sick smile.

You know, my mother is the only person I’ve ever known who

actually made the boo-hoo sound when she cried.

And she cried.

She always cried

back in those trailer park days.

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Metal Scrapes Porcelain

Kindra M. Austin – a poem of never again

Photo by Mati Mango on Pexels.com

My mouth is pregnant with sound,

but my lips

form only silent shapes;

and you taunt me over a plate of

post-fuck

scrambled eggs.

You used to love my scrambled eggs,

but now you’re not even eating;

you push the food around with a fork

while I

swirl a glass of pink zinfandel,

and contemplate killing you.

Metal scrapes porcelain…

the moon is no longer ours;

she’s retreated

deep within a grey white veil—

an ever passing shroud.

Metal scrapes porcelain…

never again will we make love

‘neath the pallid watch.

Never again

will you hear the shrill of my heart.

Metal scrapes porcelain…

and my mouth is pregnant with sound,

dead under the noise of a fuckin’ fork

pushing eggs to the center of a dinner plate.

I take the fork from your flimsy fingers

and wonder

what your blue eyes would taste…

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