Featured Post: The Bluest Eye- Christine E. Ray

ivory hued dolls
with wavy golden locks
lovingly combed
and styled
sat carefully along
the bedroom shelf
their piercing blue eyes
painted open
in horror
their mouths forming
silent ‘O’s
of unheard screams
no protection
no comfort
can they offer
these porcelain witnesses
of the injustices
inflicted upon
her young brown body
by a racist society
by boys
and men
she knew
she trusted
her world
her skin
her psyche
by such
unable to bear
their unblinking knowing
any longer
she turns each doll
so they face
the wall
and begins to slowly
sew herself
back together

© 2019 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved

Guest Post: A Prayer for Pennsylvania/Marissa Glover

Jesus said, “If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea” (Matthew 18:6).

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be the nameless & unnamed
Give us this day our daily news—
decades of abusers now accused
Deliver us from evil

I do not forgive priests who hurt little children

No matter how much they confess
or kneel or swish with holy water
No matter how many catechisms
or pilgrimages or prayers to the Virgin

I do not forgive pedophiles
or those who look the other way

They can drink the communion cup
until their bladder fills, explodes the prostate—
stuff their mouth with wafers, white as chastity

They can choke on this spotless body
rendered for them, offered for healing
of sickness and removal of sins

May they aspirate halfway through
their Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned
both the confessor and the falsely penitent

Then let them burn
Let them burn


This poem was first published at Poetry 24 in August 2018.

Marissa Glover is a teacher and writer who shares her thoughts more than necessary, which she considers a form of charitable giving. If it counted as a tax deduction, she’d be rich. Her poetry has been published at Easy StreetThe OpiateLipstick Party MagazineUnbroken Journal, and Muddy River Poetry Review, among others. Follow her on Twitter @_MarissaGlover_.

Trigger Finger- Christine Ray


soft hand

in velvet glove


still smoking gun

that triggered me

did not mean harm

and yet . . .

the hole

in my gut

leaks blood

dark crimson

that spreads

like spilled ink

it was a clean shot

through and through

that caught me unaware

crushed bone and


create the outline

of my body

on hard cement floor

ignore the scene

of the crime

I am deft

at resurrecting


the mess


© 2018 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved