Volume 1, Issue 3 & 4 - Diverse Voices Quarterly

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STILL UNTITLED I used to be my body A red stain left by my heart After thoughts of Embarrassed genitalia Fumbled soft dribbling Is this poem worth going crazy for The sleep within me—a skittish shadow The man with a beautiful face knows I come to die —Marc Tretin Diverse Voices Quarterly, Vol. 1, Issue 3 & 4 38
WHY I LOVE LINDA JEAN Diverse Voices Quarterly, Vol. 1, Issue 3 & 4 39 by Catherine Parnell Linda Jean reads paperback novels underwater. You should see the way her flashlight beams on the page, the way her fingers play the waves as she reads, the way her scuba-slick body hangs suspended in the ocean. In her one-piece wetsuit and booties—a lacquered licorice on her, and her strapped-on tanks, she looked like an underwater dominatrix. She held herself in front of me, and I examined her with care as we dangled in the current. Our tanks fizzed in the salt water. I timed the rate of our ascent while she read and as she dropped the pages, I felt as if she’d ripped layers of skin from my body. Nosing the disintegrating paper, yellow and black fish circled and jabbed; some bit the pages that curled in the water as if the papers were love food for fish, the dissolving ink a fine burgundy. But a pert blue fish found itself draped by a sheet of paper and after I lifted it, the fish shot away and the page dropped in the blue water to the black ocean floor. At forty feet I heard the whir of the boat’s engine. Linda Jean’s silhouette crumpled and she pushed her mask into mine so that we were eye to eye. She winked and pointed up. She was aching to breach the top. I looked and shook my head. Be patient, I said with my hands. I stretched out like one of Jesus’ helpers; Linda Jean crossed herself. She rolled her eyes and in mock frustration, threw the book down, but it didn’t sink quickly. I see now it was a booty call, Linda Jean beckoning me onward. That’s what Linda Jean does to me, makes me feel my desire so much I actually believe I do want it. I want it so much, I’ve shut myself away from the rest. I’m Linda Jean’s diving buddy. I’ve wondered what she would do if I didn’t surface, if I dropped my watch, if I lost my compass. I’m as responsible for her as she is for me, but that’s not the case. Underwater, she throws her whole self on me: black aqua, amorphous, amorous. She makes me feel her weight, but it’s not a burden. More like blue lightning. I got all shook up, seized, and convulsed, and I ached to lick her salty body. The rippling water magnified and distorted Linda Jean; she was larger than life, but the vision broke as water sluiced between my wetsuit and my skin. I felt phosphorescent cold fire between my legs. I licked my mouthpiece. I tasted my own gritty passion; I saw enlarged particulars of myself—my hair, my wrist, my ankle. Diving is inspiration, expiration. Inhale, exhale. Inspire, expire. Even below the surface of that fine blue water, Linda Jean inspired me. My ears and sinuses popped as we pulled out, my face cracked with salt. The first divers up, we sat benched on the dive master’s boat in the tropical sun.
Page 1 and 2: Issue 3 & 4 Diverse Voices Quarterl
Page 3 and 4: CONTRIBUTOR NOTES Maia Akiva is a s
Page 5 and 6: then she has been courting the muse
Page 7 and 8: a book art show titled Somewhere Fa
Page 9 and 10: TABLE OF CONTENTS “The Kitchen on
Page 11 and 12: “Skin Vessel 2” Carmen Teixdor
Page 13 and 14: andying about their assessments of
Page 15 and 16: toward the trough at the allotted f
Page 17 and 18: was expecting to happen this aftern
Page 19 and 20: CHEROKEE That little smart-eyed boy
Page 21 and 22: COKED-UP HOOKER Like a coked-up hoo
Page 23 and 24: STAINED GLASS SISTER It’s as if S
Page 25 and 26: Rising —Eliza Kelley Diverse Voic
Page 27 and 28: “First of the month already,” h
Page 29 and 30: throat, adjusts his silk cravat (so
Page 31 and 32: RETREAT, RETREAT The cold rain thre
Page 33 and 34: EMPTINESS… Emptiness, consisting
Page 35 and 36: “your kiss” the sweetest poem y
Page 37: RAINDROP BABY Version 1 I’m a Chi
Page 41 and 42: hot sun, she buried her face in my
Page 43 and 44: Glowing Rainbow —Debi Blankenship
Page 45 and 46: STAINS The whole long day’s a tat
Page 47 and 48: Finally, the waitress. Frank put th
Page 49 and 50: nerve,” Judith glared at him, red
Page 51 and 52: THE BURNING DAYS IV. It is strange
Page 53 and 54: wish fulfillment! And yet our moron
Page 55 and 56: Nevertheless, my doubts grew into m
Page 57 and 58: YOURS DECIDUOUSLY Read the fallen l
Page 59 and 60: Flutterby —Jacqueline Mckenzie Di
Page 61 and 62: scant Spaces “Proverb” Time age
Page 63 and 64: took comfort in knowing that hardly
Page 65 and 66: The old man heard her suggestion, s
Page 67 and 68: The Color Circle —Orit Yeret Dive
Page 69 and 70: PALE KREYÓL? Diverse Voices Quarte
Page 71 and 72: carriages pulled by horses. I’d l
Page 73 and 74: Into The Starry Skies —Korliss Se
Page 75 and 76: “He’s noticed us,” he told Ma
Page 77 and 78: COMFORT IN FICTION Diverse Voices Q
Page 79 and 80: promise, there’s a reason for it.
Page 81 and 82: CLASS REUNION So what if my stomach
Page 83 and 84: foundation departments with elegant
Page 85 and 86: In the years since then, I’ve lea
Page 87 and 88: hours in case we have ED? In case w
Page 89 and 90:
After my sister and I stopped wanti
Page 91 and 92:
When we finally made it upstairs, t
Page 93 and 94:
HAZARDOUS CONDITIONS Diverse Voices
Page 95 and 96:
“Aaron’s good. The puppy’s gr
Page 97 and 98:
“Hold on a sec.” I walked to th
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Volume 1, Issue 3 & 4 - Diverse Voices Quarterly

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