In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

  • Intruder (Home as a fallacy), and: House daLorde (Home as a dream)
  • June Beshea (bio)

Intruder (Home as a fallacy)

home is one thin glass veil away from being just anothergrave, a lie given to appease and quiet the, love does not protect us against bullets.all this dancing and joy does not protect against was the whispers of how we turned ash to food and fed ourselves,how we died and lived on at the same time that made usotherworldly. hasn’t everyone wanted to push the limitsof breath? to know what makes the strong weak? what makesthe flesh glitter? what animates the bodyof these corpses?

easy to see why they would want to bloody us—all black and queerand living a coven in the dark-conjuring hope betweenthe beats of that song we know. making life from dust and eating ituntil our bellies are full with just enough to get by, til there is moreof us to be spilled.

and the beat is a myth we made up in the night. and the undead are dead again.someone let themselves into our sanctuary. what they wanted was to knowthe truth. all they found was disappointmentin how we connected these bodies in ritualevery wound ripping us open at once. howour magic is not a shield but an elixirmeant to stave off what we have always seen coming. [End Page 166]

House daLorde (Home as a dream)

a smile ain’ta home? a voice?a shady spot in the park where you been sleeping for a monthor the townhouse that the 6 of us share cause ain’t no money ‘tween us.we work the odd jobs, the earth jobs, the sex jobsswap this or that to get by.yesterday I bartered tomatoes for a dress that shows off my thighs,a brooding purple that makes my skin shine as it escapes the dark edges. Iwore it like a frame.painted my nails, lips.made myself a pieceof artwork untouchable,yet all the right hands touched me. held me then gave me space,planted pursed lip kisses on the impasto and let me be—this authenticman. snuck canned liquor into the club behind big laughs and smallacquaintances, led me to the dance floor where it was too dark to see usstumbling over each otherand called it home. [End Page 167]

June Beshea

June Beshea (House daLorde) is an Atlanta-born poet/writer/beat-maker/day-time scientist currently residing in Baltimore. Their work weaves the South into modern-queer expressions. They hope to find ways to bring together Blaq Queer/Trans communities around the world.



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pp. 166-167
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