Published by Caitin Press, 2020 Small Courage: A Queer Memoir of Finding Love and Conceiving Family is a story that explores the author’s multi-faceted identity: a writer, poet, athlete, mother and lesbian, partner to a loving wife, and a member of an unconditionally loving non – traditional family. Her memoir challenges the popular notion that
A brief study of certain adjectives and how they form personality and personhood. This study draws on both dictionary definitions and lived experience.
Here at the Black Bear Review, not only do we believe that everyone has a story to tell, but we also believe that the finest form of story-telling is through our art….click here to read more (Written by Samantha Smith)
I am sitting by the oceanAnd I’m thinking of youof inky wishing stones and straw hatsFloating on the surfaceConsumed by viscous memories slipping my mind I am watching the loonsThey call for you stillBaying in the smoky portsEach methodical note rippling away forever in hopes to reach you I am in my roomA hope chest
Where I am fromit’s a late August morningfresh eggs and Canadian baconit’s my brother’s old flannelcowboy bootsand work clothesit’s the tender sun on a dusty truck dashboardwith sleep still in our eyesit’s John Denver on the radio Where I am fromit’s a late August afternoondriver seat pushed all the way forwardpink boots barely touching the
Stuart doesn’t want to leave, but he doesn’t want to stay either. He gazes around him – passengers coming and going, creating a turbulence that sweeps him to the side, paralyzed, drowning. A confusion of swirling colors, pastel sandals and navy-blue winter jackets, giving ambiguous clues about people’s destinations. Stuart’s anxiety about what’s coming
Zoey lifted the bicycle from the curb where she had taken a spill startled by the military jeep so close to her rounding the corner. Cold steel pressed against her forehead, her eyes traveling up the barrel to a finger on the trigger. Her in-laws’ housekeeper, Carmelita, dashed into the street screaming at
I can see her,everlasting ripples along glass.The river is carrying her through the earlymorning light —a linen sheet soaked with sweat.Chemtrails overhead, silky seaweed below.Sadistic figures crossing the creaking bridge,cursingan embodiment of monogamy — of loyalty.A supercut of innocence within one frame.Did you see in between the valley of her wing?A streak of mud, of
Whereforestrange things surfacesuck souls barely knowingthey are alivecry as they’re lostto hate.
Feral Rickie was sent to find the family dog. His father had been working on the car. During one trip to the basement for tools, he left the door open and the terrier-mix Snappy was out and down the street to the drainage ditch that ran along the railroad tracks and farmer’s fields. A look
I choose to be seen for whoAnd whatI am To let it be knownThat I would rather shiver in the coldThan let one person stand aloneIf I enter these spaces by the grace of my face I betray my sisters, My saviors Who are shut out from this placeAnd I do an injustice when I
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