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For Your Convenience
By Frank Ortega A young Narcissus coming in from the rain kneels before the blow drier of a men’s public room. Stealing reflections selfish from its curved chrome he watches his hand style precious locks teased through hot forced air; strained, he dries also his pants. This piece is from The Feminist Toilet #3. To return…
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EVERY BATHROOM IN L.A. IS GAY NOW
By Karla Lamb for Vanessa An army of lovers shall not fail. — Rita Mae Brown How do I enter this poem? Do love justice? A party is a party is a party. We mark our territory, knock over piles of TP rolls at sapphic nights—in gay sports bars. & someone in the bathroom line…
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I feel god inside this taco bell bathroom: a taco-entrapuntal
By Kristin Gustafson This piece is from The Feminist Toilet #3. To return to the table of contents, click here.
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She Returns to LA
By Sammy Ginsberg she is me is back, babya poet againbubble-wrapped in beatific lovepost-school Jack Kerouac of Disembodied Poetics dazewhere human error creates warmth.it’s okay to not like where you liveand share about it.it’s okay to not be happyall the time.actually, that is poetry.these human feelingsstifled, repressed, unconscious -speak them into beinginto healing.we want to…
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Anti-Ode to the Third Toilet From the End in the Elephant Bar Bathroom
By Victoria Lynne McCoy We were there for my birthday dinner, but youwere the main event. I prepared to kneel before youlike ritual, there in the vaguely safari-themedsuburban chain. The anonymity of Anytown I neededwith the false promise of adventureI craved. You were a confession I bore in secretso no one could take the cold…
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The Basic American Dream
By Sammy Ginsberg “Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That’s made America the land it has…
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Chaperoning in Catalina
By Sammy Ginsberg These amazing humans On the cusp of adulthoodSo much changeTransformation Overwhelming, terrifying.And we are here on this islandSnorkeling to see garibaldi,Sheephorn crabs, sea slugsKayaking to caves Song of sea lionsAnd diving pelicansHiking to bald pointAll that blue,Dolphins and dreamy vistas In this little coveFox landingIdyllic, utopicFar away from society Its own society…
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He Was Already Dead
By Sammy Ginsberg “Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” Samuel Beckett I have failed so many times this yearso many timesand Papa Joe passed away,failed at three marriageswas it failure?our healthcare system failed himour cities and neighborhoods failed himsenior citizen more like second class citizeninvisiblehe wanted to diehe was already dead – that’s what our…
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Afraid of Everything
By Sammy Ginsberg For Papa Joe Sitting on his green leather chair with the wood arm rests,the one he’s had for decadesnow in room 757 at The Variel.“I just feel so afraid.”his eyes twinkle blue and he looks like a little boy,with his yellow shirttucked into his underwear.“What are you afraid of, Grandpa?”I ask, Top…
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Remember
By Christina Rossetti Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand,Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann’d: Only remember me; you…