after Gwendolyn Brookes
We slink in black. We cool
their glances, throw off school
borne shackles, we lurk
in corners, our own dark booth, late
night lechers are more afraid. We
black our eyes, before they strike
we blur the lines, are we really straight?
We chant and cackle, wail and sing
immerse our hearts and souls in sin
church ladies worry at their daughter's loss. We
burrow down, in black and thin
lace gloves, thick dark tights, each cup of gin
emboldens rights. We
bathe in goth, post punk, dark wave, jazz
wear black jumpers in June,
united in non-conformity. We
will grow up,some will let this die
others' moment will be here. Soon.
Kathryn Anna Marshall is a writer based in Shropshire. She has work published or forthcoming in Mslexia, Popshot Quarterly and Dawntreader, as well as online at places like Words for the Wild and Nine Muses Poetry. She was longlisted for the 2020 Paper Swans Press single poem competition and recently published Yes to Tigers, an illustrated poetry zine inspired by her time as poet in residence for Secret Severn Art Trail. Twitter: @KathrynAnna_x