by Ashley Chew

before i know it i am spinning,
arms akimbo,
dying a dizzy-dim death
under neon-pink lights.
i am wearing my grief coat tonight -
i share it with a dark stranger.
she finds shelter in it.
the night breathes different without you.
i still feel blindly for your face.
a single glittery disco ball spins from the middle of the ceiling,
like an uneven moon,
spilling stardust all over us,
our grief coats,
grief smiles,
over me,
on my wobbly heels,
holding me up,
full weight of a human body,
gingerly,
lightly.
my mouth is spangled with your stars.

​Ashley Chew lives on the sunny island city of Singapore. She holds a Master of Arts degree in English Literature and clearly could not keep away from books for long for she is at present an associate librarian at the National Library Board of Singapore. Ashley’s bursting email inbox is always open to you if your subject header is in all caps and contains at least 5 exclamation marks, no less: [email protected]. 

by Dee Allen

There have been times--
Musical, foot-stomping, joyous times--
At strobe-lit spaces
Goths and Rivetheads
Were known to congregate
When I was welcomed
And felt accepted
As one of their own.
 
And at other times
At such spaces--
Times I wish
Were erased from my memory--
When I passed through
The dancing, undulating, spiked & pierced
Lot unnoticed,
Double-black--
Black garments moving,
Covering Black skin,
Except for the face--
And a superpower
I never counted on having
Kicked in around the decorative, mostly
Pale elitist ones
Uniformed in the shade of midnight:
 
Invisibility.
​
African-Italian performance poet based in Oakland, California U.S.A. Active on creative writing & Spoken Word since the early 1990s. Author of 7 books--Boneyard, Unwritten Law, Stormwater, Skeletal Black, Elohi Unitsi and his 2 newest, Rusty Gallows and Plans--and 66 anthology appearances. Currently seeking a new publisher.