secrets have an audience
1
while we’re busy romanticizing the softer side of things
well-disguised vibes disregard
the countless beings made into (numb)ers
favoring an unawakened righteous feeling
through a façade that denies inner reality
nurturing the phallic identity of war
2
she is little bits of earth
scattered bits of belonging
an appropriation for those who take
feeling nothing is taken because it is paid for
to feed a selfish desire that places her to burn
underneath a halo of fire
creating the compartmentalized
as we stigmatize in the quiet and unitedly reject her
unconscious—while busy chasing false ideals
searching for pretty in politics
as connoisseurs of fixation with introspection
gingered by the allure, continue to devour her shell
with blades of combative motivation
that takes no accountability, as we all inadvertently fuck her
3
she reads Hello Universe in old bunny slippers
lives in an agricultural area
sits on the porch reading
hears a diminutive echo
it is the year of another great pandemic
and other distractions
from the millions starving
for one reason or another
however, much less critical
than the societal incubator
or the soccer game
as the shadow
in a white van
uses a burner phone
three days, three rooms
a ringing in the ear that means more
as you look away
from the empty swing swaying
4
a temperamental questioning of the self
remembering it grew past two months
a choice sucked into the symbolic
a static feeling remains
refusing to breed
as it parallels a vision
even if it means killing the unborn seed
to not throw away hope for a child
that is already someone
a twelve-year-old
locked inside a small dark apartment
getting used by an endless stream
____,______,________,__________,
as it pours from your daughter in the arms of your son
5
the majority continue connected to the mask
killing a turkey and then sending a card
with a contented one on it
eating a pig and calling it pork
their teeth pulled out
as the mother watches them squeal
buying a stuffed bear for the child
while purchasing its bile; they are bred and tortured
we treat our animals as we treat each other
but this isn’t what we want to hear
most will deny it has meaning—desensitized
it has feelings
nearby, a widowed Arab mother with eight sons
must reveal herself to strange men
in a place where she is no longer a wife
there are no brothers, no uncles
no man to claim her
so she removes her hijab to feed her children
inadvertently teaching her sons about their “brothers”
with this allegory, for most is not as it appears
but it’s not our country, not our home
not our irony, so we willfully swallow it
like “meat” ignoring the rape
of another number—an accepted behavior
as we slumber
instead of reaching beyond the pale
6
diagonal, horizontal, vertical
the lines we hide in
the lines we love between
the lines we point from
these lines play us
clogging internal processes
clinging to us as belief
that keeps us hunting
and hostile regard safe
inside our cumulative womb
trafficking the guns gunning us down
while bound in an addiction town
7
a vignette rotting
a fostered feeling
a male-centric mainstream
a movie she wishes could be unseen
a floret falling apart
petal lips cascading
as we skate through the details
infested with dark limbic thoughts
the egregore overidentifies with form
trapping her in a sea of sharks
disconnecting from impending matters
coded for the untrained eye
lulling inborn wisdom back to sleep
that serves the omniscient streams
bribing the scribe with the felicitous mind
before the eye traverses the den
to make Laureate’s paper words mean nothing
because she doesn’t know she is, too, prey
as another stately white man
uses rubbers on a mattress with one thin, dirty sheet
8
we all want to be in an uplifted state
with a God that makes us feel safe and entertained
while we shoot semi-automatics
to kill the seed, we do not call our own
it is part of cancer’s permeative conditioning
the Dubble Bubble happening around the globe
as we say, “It’s not me, it’s them. It’s there, not here.”
as the lights blink on and off in the small dark apartment in our mind
9
deliberate (u)niverse
we are it pretending to be a _____________
an absent black moon
a carnivore awakening
fromdarknessspringsthelight
(interpretations of the comforts of [personal] space)
the church / the temple / the sanctuary / the synagogue
the mosque / the pagoda / the gate / the abattoir
(words for the same thing): within
psychological death
a surrendered state
creates space
deeper than thought
a sleeping infant in my arms
the win
win
even in trauma and sticky situations
gathering the momentum of the tormented and tormentor
in the house built by metaphor
aligning consequences with reflections of truth
in dimension deeper than possession
entwined in the silence
of secrets that have an audience
Digital Art
Michael Dickel ©2019–2022
Poem ©2022 Adrian Voss
All rights reserved
Adrian Voss…
…lives with her family in Colorado. She is an artist, teacher, and emerging writer with a few published pieces online and a children’s book. The poem submitted is from a full-length collection entitled, The Small Dark Apartment. The work explores uncomfortable aspects within the silence of the collective mainstream. Adrian strives to bring life elements to the surface to push past deceptive illusions and create more light.
The BeZine 