February 2021

Inspired by Mary Bethune Mcleod

words hold weight
either to be cherished
like a perfectly polished river rock
found on the shores of Lake Michigan
or to weigh down a body
found at the bottom of the ocean
words carry hope
and hate
life and death
so what happens to a soul
when your words are stolen
when books are treasure that you do not have the map for
when knowledge is power
but power is not yours
how do you stand and fight
when the little girls in party dresses keep pushing you back down
eyes narrowed
hands full of dirt
you push your feet into the Earth
knowing you don’t need the books
the so called knowledge
recognizing you have the power already
words are your superpower
and you cannot steal
what you cannot see Lori Lux Fearless Writers Intern 2020 – 2021

“Utopia”

do you ever get the feeling that you’ve lost something
but don’t know what
I walk around picking up rocks
looking for the piece I know I’m missing
surely the rest of me is somewhere around here
I have health anxiety
the less offensive way of saying hypochondria
causing me to wake
scan my body for new sensations
ensuring myself that nothing crept up while I slept
I recently realized this is just another way of searching for my place
where do I belong
the answer must be here somewhere
too often I’m waiting
sitting on a park bench expectantly
hoping with an embarrassing amount of fervor
that my people
my purpose
my space in the world
will find me
and say
there you are, we’ve been looking for you Lori Lux Fearless Writers Intern 2020 – 2021

Inspired by Jamaal May’s ‘There are no birds here’
Detroit felt like Kansas to my young Dorothy self
I loved the buzz of the city
the graffiti as we called it
not hip enough to know “street art”
drew me in
to it’s lines
lips
words
cracking my soul
wide enough to understand
beauty can come from a concrete building
although not a breathe-it-in-like-oxygen fan
the Tigers are in my blood and I silently root for them from April to October each year
we’ve made the drive countless times
pick up Grandma from the airport
through the terrifying tunnel
and accidentally head towards Chicago on the way home
too many times to count
live music heard in hole in the wall bars
where the speakers were so close my head rang for days
Detroit is stitched into my lining
tucked into my pocket
Tucker’s first teaching job was there
an hour commute plus construction in our one car
that would be stolen on my birthday
while I sat home
two small boys
thinking of 75
longing for the road
to my other home
I’ve been known to drive aimlessly as a way to cope
opening the windows
music too loud for my age
I can drive from Detroit all the way to our street in Naples
this place
that road
like a vein
holding my pulse
tracking my life Lori Lux Fearless Writers Intern 2020 – 2021

Superheroes
they don’t worry what they’ll wear
there isn’t time for a cape
or flying car
they put on their shoes
one hand on the wall
grab their bag
and walk down the frozen street
their face is covered with a mask
and so is yours
but their fire eyes light up
your face
and you feel a jolt of electricity as they pass you
they stop and wave to the everyday man
across the street
say a word to his molasses slow dog
and continue on their way
they drop a sealed note in the rusted mailbox
at the corner
tuck hands in pockets
retrieve small bits of food for the stray cats at their feet
continue their path ahead
eyes wide open
heart on their sleeve
ready to see you Lori Lux Fearless Writers Intern 2020 – 2021

Frozen Moments

Can I freeze a moment in time?
Just one precious, authentic, filling second
Of hearing that inspiring crack.
Feel the showerof a thousand tiny glass pieces
Falling effortlessly from the sky.
Watch the smiles of my peers unfold,
Into gaping crescents on their faces.
Listen to the cheers of women,
As the cage with millions of locks is opened with a million tiny clicks.
The bonds chaining us to the ground,
Preventing us from flying above the expectations of others,
Reduced to threads.
Can I freeze these moments to show them to others,
Show them to my friends,
Show them to my mother,
To my little sister,
Show them that change and liberation are possible.
Make them see how far we’ve come,
How far we have to go.
And make sure they know,
That these frozen moments,
May, and will last lifetimes to come.
Libby Barnett – Bowling Green High School