We are not

extinct, though I thinkmyself into the past.

You wake upin the middle

of the night certainthere is someone

outside your window,afraid

that we will do to youwhat you’ve done to us.

A bullet

sneaking through thetrees, smallpox-infected

blankets presented to youas housewarming gifts—this threat of painis worse

than the pain itselfand when I speak

it’s to make you ache.

Top photo by irem ışıklar on Pexels

“What if we took all this anger born of righteous love and aimed it?”

—Ijeoma Olou, “We women can be anything. But can we be angry?” Medium.com

ANGER showcases essays and poetry featuring well-aimed anger from femme writers, writers of color, LGBTQIA+ writers, First Nations writers, and disabled writers.