Rainbows Behind Glass: A Lockdown Anthology

GBRAELHAINISNBSDOWS A LOCKDOWN ANTHOLOGY FROM STANDING PROUD - LGBT+ WRITERS’ GROUP



RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS A LOCKDOWN ANTHOLOGY Featuring the work of: Nicola Longworth-Cook, Colby Wren Fierek, Chris Cox, Becky Leonard-Dixon, Lydia Sofia, Oliver Bliss, Jay Rose Ana, Elizabeth Joy, Claire G.M Benson, Steve J. Martin, Sophie Ridge, Andrew Gardner and Dawn Wright. With supplementary work from allies of the project: Alison McIndoe, Emma Lord and Memoona Ahmed. Produced by The Word Association with

Rainbows Behind Glass We first met In a glass box Housing books Stories pressed against the weight Of time and other stories Sunshine poured over Our initial words spoken Prising you open With a tenderness Usually reserved for flower buds Warming you up to Exploration From behind glass We learnt of the Terrifying implications and Punitive restrictions As a pandemic Eroded our world And the familiar We reconnected Behind glass Found solace in one another Found stories bigger than terror Each colour of you all Framed and preserved The streets were Flagged with rainbows In wax crayon Naïve hopeful scribbles Fading behind glass As the summer Staggered on Through bitter exhaustion

Pride was preserved Restricted Paused Encased A historic lifeless moment Trapped Like a freeze frame of butterflies Under the weight of an antique frame The silence Centuries heavy Your words wove colour Through the mesh of the monochrome Your writing glimmers with truth Reflective Strong Transparent Fragile in its beauty Your words Dance like rainbows Fragmenting through Crystal clarity As we fight isolation And find comfort In the colours of One another Holly Winter-Hughes

INTRODUCTION When we set up the Standing Proud Writers’ Group (with much help and support from our local LGBT+ social inclusion charity, Out2gether - especially their passionate founder, Nicola Longworth-Cook) we intended to run a ten week course and produce one anthology of around 100 pages. We met in February and the group gelled quickly, creative sparks were ignited from the first session and I had the most delicious feeling that we were onto something truly special. We had no idea at the time, that within weeks the whole country would be in lockdown and that our weekly sessions would become even more valuable in helping fight isolation and lift people’s spirits. When the reality of the situation struck, it felt right to keep the sessions running via Zoom. It was more important than ever to have weekly contact with our participants and many of them reported back on the therapeutic benefits of writing during such troubling times. Our anthology quickly grew to a healthy book of over 200 pages. We were hoping to distribute physical copies at Worcestershire Pride, but are grateful for the chance to be involved in the virtual event instead. A lot of the writing that emerged from our sessions dealt with themes surrounding lockdown, so when participant Steve suggested we create a whole other anthology purely around LGBT+ experiences of lockdown we ran with it. We’re very grateful to Matthew Jenkins of St Stephens Ward whose support meant that we could produce a second anthology. We are also thankful to Worcester City Council for providing funding to get the project running in the first place. The group has produced a collaborative film poem to celebrate and honour the work of the NHS during the Covid-19 crisis, they performed at the virtual Loud & Queer Arts Festival and we are currently producing a

series of videos for Hate Crime Awareness Week, as well as Worcestershire Pride. All of this can be explored through The Word Association’s website. We continue to meet on a weekly basis and have plans for future bodies of work going forward. Many of the participants are actively involved in the spoken word scene and are building their own collections of poetry. It has been an absolute honour to work with this group. Each week I am moved, delighted, amused, energised and challenged by their work and their stories. The level of compassion, solidarity and kindness shown amongst the participants of the Standing Proud Writers’ course has been a beautiful source of light and colour in these challenging times. I hope you find comfort and escapism in their words. Holly Winter-Hughes, Co-founder and director of The Word Association and Standing Proud project facilitator. The Word Association is a collective of writers and artists from different backgrounds who are passionate about using art to make a social impact, offering free writing workshops and publishing opportunities to marginalised communities. www.the-word-association.com Out2gether is an LGBT+ charity who promote and support the wellbeing of LGBT+ people and those affected by LGBT+ issues in Worcester and South Worcestershire. www.facebook.com/Out2gether

First published in the United Kingdom in 2020. © The Word Association 2020 Each poet has asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of their work. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. First published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by Bite Poetry Press. www.bitepress.co.uk First Edition Cover image: Detail from Bound 2 U by Oliver Bliss http://oliverbliss.blogspot.com/ Design by Gerard Hughes www.gerardhughes.co.uk Printed and bound in the UK by Biddles, Castle House East Winch Road, King’s Lynn PE32 1SF

CONTENTS 15 NICOLA LONGWORTH-COOK 16 A Gentle Pause 17 Personal Protection 18 When Experts Suddenly Came Back In Fashion 19 A Portrait Of Masks - An Evolution Of Safety And Identity 20 Easter 2020 21 Angel Of Death 22 Masks And Rainbows Behind Glass 24 8pm, Thursday Evening 25 There Are Loose Ends 26 Adjustments – April 2020 27 Out2gether Socials, Coffee Warehouse, Last Saturday Of The Month 28 Retail Therapy Cold Turkey Paranoia 29 Should Have Been Days 30 Lockdown Haiku 31 Soon There Will Be Roses 32 What’s Your Mask? 33 Uneasing 34 Chorister - Singing as a Forbidden Activity 35 Summer 2020 36 Scary New World 37 Let This Be The Healing 39 COLBY WREN FIEREK 40 Unpause 41 Slipping 42 Ochre 43 Jackminton

44 Agency 45 Others 46 Brown Clee 47 Waste 48 Votives 51 CHRIS COX 52 “Two Metres” 53 Lockdown Haiku x 4 55 BECKY LEONARD-DIXON 56 Covid-19 57 My Pal Fear 58 Physical Distance 59 There’s Room For You 60 Pride 2020 61 Ruby 62 Solitary Fun 63 All Alone Now 64 The Course 67 LYDIA SOFIA 68 Not Just An Empty Cavern 69 I Don’t Even Drink Coffee 70 The Old Man of Calke 71 Breathing Thunder 72 Uprooting 73 Travels In Green 74 Hakone 76 The Antique Ashtray 77 Albany Road 78 Graffiti On Ashby Castle Walls, August 2020 79 Sharing Memories Of Spurn

81 OLIVER BLISS 82 Going Back Out Since Lockdown 83 Hope 84 Isolation 86 The First Record 87 Touch Starved 88 What It Was To Learn In A School 95 JAY ROSE ANA 96 The Shock Down 98 The More We Change 99 My Darkest Day 100 Freedom Lost 101 New Hope 102 Two Metres 103 My Bed 104 Time Is A Healer 105 Kindness 106 Thank You Carers 107 Freedom Brew 108 Back To Reality 111 ELIZABETH JOY 112 C-19 113 Illness 114 Recovery 115 Lockdown Haiku 116 I Am Restricted 117 Grounded 118 Lockdown Heatwave 121 CLAIRE G.M BENSON 122 I Can’t Breathe 124 Isolation 125 Lockdown 126 The Pandemic

129 STEVE J. MARTIN 130 Before 131 Waist 132 Archaeological Dig 133 The Pride That Never Was 134 Nic’s Birthday 135 A Letter To The 57-Year-Old Me 136 Local Shop 137 A Message For My Fellow Writers 138 Everything’s Going To Be Alright 139 When All This Is Over 141 SOPHIE RIDGE 142 Dreams 143 A State Of Mind 144 No Way 145 Let 146 Locked Down 149 ANDREW GARDNER 150 Cycling 151 Everything Will Be Alright 152 Lockdown 153 Family Ties 156 Verification Of Expected Death 159 DAWN WRIGHT 160 The Poem And The Jellyfish by Penny Sumner

179 FROM OUR ALLIES 179 ALISON MCINDOE 180 Covid-19 181 Shutdown 182 Ennui 185 EMMA LORD 186 My Son 187 The New Normal 188 When All This Is Over, I Will… 191 MEMOONA AHMED 192 Outdoor Clothes 193 Wasting

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NICOLA LONGWORTH-COOK (She/Her) Socialist. Pacifist. Environmentalist LGBT Activist Inclusive Feminist Humanist Horticulturalist Lover of… lists [email protected] Facebook/NLCPoetry My name is Nicola Longworth-Cook and I am the co-founder and current Chair of LGBT+ Community Group ‘Out2gether’. During Lockdown all of Out2gether’s events had to be transferred onto Zoom in order to carry on. This was the exact opposite of our usual approach of holding events for people to attend in person and so required a steep learning curve for us all. The Standing Proud LGBT+ Writers’ Group with Holly Winter-Hughes flourished online and became an anchor in the week for many of us. The group grew to twenty members, all keen to spend their Saturday mornings being inspired by Holly’s writing prompts, sometimes writing for the first time and always creating a warm safe space for people to have their authentic selves heard. It says a lot about Holly and the group that it has continued way passed the initial 10 weeks planned and looks set to continue into the future - out of lockdown and into the new now. With huge appreciation for Holly and the Word Association’s support: this is a project I am deeply proud of. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 15

A Gentle Pause Five pm briefing The Prime Minister speaks the language of battle, Of distant man-made warfare. He has no idea What he’s dealing with here. Clouds build, the colour of thunder Filling the sky and our dreams. We’re waking each day to a nightmare. Nothing is normal - it seems We’re watching our lives twist astray, Holding tight to our shopping bags And our friends, two metres away. The blossom rests, trapped in the tree’s Fountain spray. A gentle pause, Mid-glide to the ground. The blackbird sings his strong, clear song To the fading day. A rare, certain sound. 16 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Personal Protection I drive like it’s the morning after Heavy snow, Like frozen slush coats the road. I grip the steering wheel, tight as my jaw, Expecting to slide and crash, or Veer off the road, lose control. But the sky is blue and the roads are clear and dry Yet the same fear twists in my stomach Compounded by confusion... My vision tells me - relax - a beautiful day My mind is full of danger, warnings I shouldn’t be out, must stay Home. Stay safe. Stay safe? The simple message burrows Right into our unconsciousness, deep Damaging. Like a shard of asbestos shreds a lung And festers into fear grown large. And fearful people are easy to manipulate. And how long before fear turns to hate? Stay safe? Or stay smart? Responsible. Listen to the facts and be kind. Apply your common sense, use your mind. It’s the only personal protection We have. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 17

When Experts Suddenly Came Back In Fashion So it seems experts are back in fashion We tried our own sweet way For a couple of weeks But everything rapidly and predictably went Tits up. We played the British card of Jolly blustering our way through But things got scary serious, and so - wouldn’t you? We called in the geeks. So suddenly experts are back in the spotlight Can’t just go by the gut these days When so much is at stake. Get the backup of a scientist or three Someone to blame for any mistakes. And we’re the Tory party that abandoned Economics. We’re the government paying people Not to work. The world has turned inside out Grinding to a halt. We can’t yet imagine just how much more This will hurt, But let’s be very clear, our foreseeable plans: Stay at home, Stay safe, Protect the NHS. And let’s all wash our hands… 18 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

A Portrait Of Masks - An Evolution Of Safety And Identity Muffled voices From muffled faces. Contrary, they force you to lean in to listen. The streets are stalked by bandits, self-conscious in surgical facemasks. Trying to remember to still be people underneath The uniform blankness. We’re forced to ignore each other completely Or risk an excruciatingly deep gaze into a stranger’s eyes. We are not used to this. We are not ready for this. But weeks pass and personalities emerge. Through the evolution from functional, practical, medical The shop bought discarded, now we favour funky homemade The etsy-store unique handcrafted artwork. The fabric, the elastic, the style statement. The identity expression wriggles to the surface, Peeps around the pattern And our masks become us. Identify us. Define us. Our new faces. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 19

Easter 2020 Three weeks into lockdown And the futures far from clear Long identical days Of small intense hours Time to stand and stare Time to think too much, time to care too much Time to be scared. Spring is kind and calls us Out from blue screen lit indoors Out into the sunshine Out to flout a few new laws And we feel temporarily free Blinking, unsteadily Into the same ever-changed world. 20 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Angel Of Death He came a step closer today. Like that stranger at the party - You don’t know them but Your gut screams out - avoid. For weeks it’s not really felt real Listening to daily briefings, Reading the Guardian online - Other people’s families, Other people’s friends, Not mine. Infected. Weeks we’ve trod water, waiting. Hunkered down, uncomplaining. Learning new rules, ways of behaving. Expecting fairness to protect Those who comply, wash hands, disinfect. Make it to the shop just once a week. We are not the ones you seek. Pass us by, Angel of Death We have been good, That was the deal, so now please don’t steal Our last breath. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 21

Masks And Rainbows Behind Glass (An Uneasy Portrait Of LGBT+ Identity Erasure In The Time Of Covid-19) Some of us are accustomed to a mask. I don’t wear my rainbows proudly every day. Some of us keep them closer to our hearts - But constant, treasured symbols of belonging Whether deep in a secret pocket or Tattooed boldly on our skin; Suddenly it seems they’re being taken away. And uncomfortable with this doesn’t quite cover it. It’s eating up my ‘Mrs Reasonable’ facade I’m a sulky sibling - being made to share is hard Feel the outrage in me building - no it really isn’t fair! When society runs fevered, grasping, stealing Our dear old friend, the Rainbow Pride flag Tips over into a new meaning, However worthy - (hope is, after all, deserved). It’s hurting. Because it’s re-appropriation, identity erasure, theft. Though it’s hard to admit it for fear of being misunderstood, Called out as treason - like an attack on the NHS This betrayal breeds an uneasy contempt, - many say, “Feels like our Rainbow Pride flag never really mattered anyway.” For fifty years six jaunty colours showed the way To recognise each other - lesbian, bi or gay. To signify safety and acceptance Support for fabulousness and difference But it seems the majority never saw it that way. And it hurts more when your own cynicism crows, proved right. Like losing another innocent in the night. 22 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Rainbows mean hope - I get it But keep to the curve - I begged, Is it too late? Is the damage already done? Steps to inclusion stumbled backwards? Is my minority status now reinforced, visibility gone? Or is it just a fear that will fade away, Like all these rainbows behind glass, Crumpled crayon drawings in windows, Bleaching in the sunshine every day? RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 23

8pm, Thursday Evening Clapping on their doorsteps Smiling at the neighbours Checking out which doors remain closed. Clapping on their doorsteps Three cheers for the NHS! How many voted Tory d’you suppose? 24 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

There Are Loose Ends There are loose ends I don’t know if I want to pick up again, but There are friends I want to hug again. There are places I would spend A day, just being - If only they were within my reach. There are lessons that normality Didn’t teach. There are days so new each morning Merging into a steady state There are hours slipping away No warning, time was to become So fluid. So filled with quiet Small things. So focused on The now. So real, yet still unreal Somehow. There are times that will be be remembered Make some memories now. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 25

Adjustments – April 2020 Recognise things are not as they were. Accept this change with good grace, Welcome it, if you can. Embrace the new possibilities. But recognise too the cost, The resistance, the energy burn of loss. The drain of disappointment Giving up on cherished plans. The hours of work spent – wasted. The sense of being cheated. The limbo longing for some certainty. These feelings cannot be wrong. Let them surface, let them sing. Let them bring your new now song. 26 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Out2gether Socials, Coffee Warehouse, Last Saturday Of The Month. Dark coffee brown walls and floors, wood and hessian and cherry red highlights. People. People and chatter and the chinking of crockery. Tinkle of spoons in earthenware cups, froth on coffee. Laughter and fried eggs fill the air. Waves and smiles and hellos and hugs. Oh, hugs. Squeezing in on warm vinyl seats; too close for today, but then it was a jostling nearness of friends I miss so much. Huge plates of breakfast; butter melting on shared toast. More coffee - who ordered a latte? The regular call rings around the pushed together wooden tables and suddenly someone realises it’s theirs. Yes, it always needs passing up the other end, along the group, hands touching but no one minds. People are helpful and kind. Some of us see a space and head to mingle - changing places, a fresh conversation to dive into. New faces to welcome, new connections to enjoy. Or maybe an outrageous hot chocolate, piled high with whipped cream and marshmallows drawing admiring gasps and a flurry of new orders. Then, too soon, two hours have passed and it’s time to say goodbye for now with more hugs (how I wish I’d held you all longer) and promises of this happening all over again. It will. I have to believe it will. I just don’t know when. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 27

Retail Therapy Cold Turkey Paranoia Retail therapy cold turkey Shops are nearly all shut. Boredom, tension, rising Temperature inside heating up. In small houses people ache To be elsewhere. Anywhere else. Relationships are tested Dominance contested And families don’t always Play fair. Happening everywhere. The sunshine as relentless As the News. Nature carries on regardless As society slowly implodes. Empty roads are racetracks For the reckless. And the police are all too busy In the park, with the feckless. We’re all watching each other From our designated two metres We’re all being undercover Vigilantes, petty bleaters So quick to notice someone Breaking the new rules. Fear and frustration have robbed us of compassion. This trust will only hold so long Some will break ranks - we suspect Some already have. 28 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Should Have Been Days We’ve somehow made it through Spring And now Summer edges in Nearly unnoticed. A calendar reminder pings A special something that should have been This weekend. Should have been life and colour, Laughter and flowers and friends. Previous years’echos So clear, vivid, loud So confident, unshakeable, proud. And my new quiet routine Seems suddenly sad Empty of those annual events That give us structure, the sense Of our place in time. All those plans set to repeat, Hardly dare hope for their return - And how their absence burns These should have been days. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 29

Lockdown Haiku Does your mask obscure? Does it keep your air clean and Your perspective pure? Bubble, safe distance. Prevent the spreading virus But still transmit love. Watching behind glass Noticed, perhaps the first time, Spring becomes Summer. Don’t want to go back. It seems wrong now to say it - Don’t make me go back. Looking for green shoots Human scale life weeps bleakness But Nature, she sings. 30 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Soon There Will Be Roses Soon there will be roses In the garden. Soon the summer’s full flush will be here And I wonder, are we near the end of this locked time, This paused year? Or are we still at the beginning? All I know is Soon there will be roses, in the garden So I’m clinging To this single simple certainty. Holding the thought dear. And, for now, finding it enough. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 31

What’s Your Mask? Functional? Fancy? Another gleeful expression of identity? Or is it this face you wear to parties? That voice you use on the phone to your mother? That professional calm bedside manner? The few words that get past the stammer? The brittle smile and shrug that does as a response When I ask you how you are? All the time wondering why we even bother to ask. What’s your mask? 32 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Uneasing My new normal is strangely full already. I’m dedicated to domestic routine. Walking the dog (1 hour max!) Emptying the washing machine. I lose myself in the simple pleasure Of planning next week’s meals It may not be really ‘achieving’ But it is really real. So, when it seems like there’s Change around the corner That we’re easing back from total lockdown I should be pleased - (but I’m not) To relinquish this new normal But it’s unwelcome, the idea brings me down. I’m not ready to return to my old ways. To the stretched-thin days of before. Over committed and under-prepared Running in circles keeping plates in the air For reasons I don’t remember any more. No, I’m afraid - And it’s the most comfortable fear I’ve ever known - I won’t be made to return I’m staying right here. My bubble is boring, but it’s mine. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 33

Chorister - Singing As A Forbidden Activity I am one of twenty four Breathing in unison, Sharing the same air, close. Standing firm, open chest, Lungs primed, diaphragm set Eyes locking, hearts synchronise to a beat Residing in a hand gesture, human. Feeling the energy rise Through the floor, Through my feet, Through my body. Vocal chords stroked with air Thrum with life and song and Voices soar on the energy released, Bounce off the windows and walls The room holds the parts and the whole. The spaces between the notes Hold the music, alive. In the turbulence of voices Come to sing together, A new trust needs to forge Before we can risk sharing air. And kept from my energy source, My vocal meditation, My spirit is shrinking, fading. The colours are missing from my picture of the world. The silence is deafening. My singing voice is muted, So my writing needs to shout for both now. To be the channel, conducting The energy from in me that burns to sound. 34 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Summer 2020 Summer is here and the soft, tentative Shoots of Spring are hardening. The glimmers of optimism shone in delicate Flowers and birdsong Are now too bright. The heat is too strong and the days Seem to burn all night. The brash and the loud rush to the beach For a fight. And the shoppers all crowd To buy bargains - how did they survive? When they had to stay in to stay alive? Summer is here and it’s not like The ones we have known. Some are rushing to reclaim their old ways, Some are shaking heads, staying at home. Summer is here but the best bits are not allowed. Some parade every day down the High St Some have to go on-line to be proud. Summer is here and the knives are already out. The tinder is dry and the lightening sparks Are coming - Watch out. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 35

Scary New World When will things be normal again? When can we relax and smile? And be seen to smile. How long can this carry on? As long as a genetic mutation Takes to work its way through iteration To dominance. What chance is there That winter will be kind? And will the cooling air Bring us a tide of germs To hold us hostage As they work their way through Our body, our household, our friends. How can we, so acutely aware of our mortality Carry on? When the cold won’t kill us But a virus hiding in plain sight Might. How can we let go of fear and of hope And just get on with learning How to cope with this Scary new world? 36 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Let This Be The Healing (After ‘Little Prayer’ by Danez Smith) Let this be the healing Let our polarised population relax Let divisions dissolve, melt like wax Remould, find a new form. Let our new shape be open and warm. Let it include all the elements Of society equally, Let it value feeling Let this be the healing. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 37

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COLBY WREN FIEREK (They/Them) Colby has recently completed their degree in Creative and Professional Writing and Screenwriting at the University of Worcester. They love to write short stories, filled with social realism and character-driven narratives, one of which was published in the Odd Voice Out anthology last year. They should be working on an historical novel about working class teens in 1970’s London, but they probably aren’t. Being in the Out2Gether writing group has finally given them the chance to focus on building their confidence with poetry and explore more introspective themes in their work. https://colbywren.wixsite.com/website RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 39

Unpause When all this is over, I will have time. I will find a way to reconnect To see familiar faces, and resume As easily as a game unpaused Like the disruption never happened And we will carry on where we left off Because I’ve realised that they won’t fade away These links I’ve made. Not if I don’t want them to. I will go on that second date That’s been hanging out of our reach For months. A round, sweet prize on a branch Something to savour The dopamine. The heady sensation that scattered All the worries And made me smile. Long after my train had left the station. 40 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Slipping On Monday, when things went wrong I felt so overwhelmed and worried That this was a terrible problem Something serious that I would Not recover from. On top of all the other things That were happening. And did not Seem to want to stop happening. It was only through words, and Through sharing worries that Things became less tangled. Easier to navigate. And with some small problems solved And obstacles vanquished I feel like everything is going To be alright. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 41

Ochre I’ve only recently discovered my affinity For yellow things. But the colour is scattered around In small, bright accents - each one from A different point in time. From a different life. A smiley face sticker. Attached to my door. I bought it with A friend I don’t see anymore. My bass strap’s replaced by police line tape Still sitting in anticipation for The punk band I’ve always envisioned. The shirt on the floor is a gift from Lizzie Two sizes too big, but comfortable Never Mind The Bollocks Printed loudly across the chest The pen I’m using now, vivid and sunny. A quick purchase from Paperchase Bought specifically for the raccoon Sitting on the top, and watching The black ink spread across the page. 42 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Jackminton Wild garlic on the wind Leaves and dirt, we hop a tree Weaving under over trunks Lazy midges hum in the sun And cabbage whites The weighbridge overgrown In red brick thick with moss A landslide happened here a while ago The river sputters blocked by A dam built by beavers, Tyre on the rocks beside the stream Down by the donkey bridge Deep water stepping stones A miner’s train ran underneath the canopy Labourers’ traces Wiped clean by the sprawl of buttercups and thistles. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 43

Agency I’ve never felt fearful writing before But this. The project I’ve put on my plate. Pinning all my hopes into it Like a flag you’d find in a burger at a restaurant. It feels different Like it means more. It weighs down my thoughts With the words of a woman Who had no time for me. And no interest in the thought and care I took to create This world. These characters. The dates and details, I’ll sift through with my hands. Carving art from dry history Until my story’s stronger than Anyone’s desire to look down at their phone And they can’t cast me off, Like she did, As a pathetic child. The industry is unfair, and it’s pretentious. And I do not fit into that mould. This ambition, it’s personal. Something I have to do To feel my worth return. 44 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Others I’m not used to this. Having space. Having time to put my thoughts into words. Expressing all the things that are weighing me down. The smallest things, so insignificant To anyone else, I imagine Perhaps that’s why I cry When you reach out, with your hands Or your voices. When you teach me the value Of myself, and the validity of these Uncomfortable feelings I’ve pressed down For long enough that I can’t even Recall a reason for my tears We stand at the crossroads now And I can see so clearly How you’ve all changed me for the better I am not the same person I once was But I’m working towards seeing that The person I am now Is okay. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 45

Brown Clee Atop the county’s highest peak Up a stone staircase pitted with Prints of those who came before Sits a copper-scented disc Set into a solid dais Marking out the territories that stretch Far beyond the gorse bushes, the lake And the long abandoned quarry Where the sheep graze 46 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

Waste Ever since I was a child I always found myself feeling Waves of guilt over things being wasted Left to the elements A child’s stuffed toy, dropped in the road Or old packaging decorated with a cute design. Now my time is spent-not wasted On making sure I treat the world right On learning, and listening to the voices of others On hoping for a world where nobody feels Like that discarded toy. And people say I have no empathy. RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS 47

Votives A Nokia 3310 Its little square screen still unshattered A relic, even when I was young Now an ancient artifact That brings the same fascination As it did to the teenager Who unwrapped it as a cutting-edge birthday gift Found amidst an tangled thicket Of earphones, and long-drained Starbucks cups In an empty, echoing hall of white. Polished chrome, and walls Emblazoned with apples. 48 RAINBOWS THROUGH GLASS

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