Breath & Shadow
A Journal of Disability Culture and Literature
Winter 2012
Volume 9 Issue 1
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Breath & ShadowA Journal of Disability Culture and Literature |
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Breath and Shadow Making My Own Acquaintance by Raud Kennedy I used to smoke, crave it, enjoy it. Now it’s something people do who are ambivalent about life, not sure if they want to live or die. I used to drink a lot. It was the high and low of my day… Click here to read this poem Cherrypoppers, Inc. by Erika Jahneke I’m calm until I hear the warm Midwestern voice on the line, the accent somewhere between my dad’s and Joan Cusack’s. “Cherrypoppers, how may we help you today,?” ‘Joan’s’ voice says, and suddenly I feel like a middle-school kid about to hold hands for the first time. Who’d that been with? Somehow, it was a relief that I didn’t know. Click Here to read this short story Your River by Achilleas Michailides The waves uplift me Into the Light I soar Rotating and dissolving See the tendrils of oblivion claiming me When I die, baby, I want to become your breath Click here to read this poem Event of the Century by Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter The winter wind whips my long hair about me as I tap my long white cane against the brick wall of Fuddrucker’s, searching for the door. My friends do the same with their canes. Grease filters through the chill air; it is the unmistakable odor of a burger joint. We’re cold and hungry. Finding the door, we scurry inside. We’re seven friends out on a Saturday having a good time—we all happen to be blind. Click here to read this creative non-fiction piece Aphasia, Public Execution, These Days by Jimmy Burns Left side deficit tyranny of nerves and flesh, attends garage sales, flea markets, church bazaars, junk...junk...junk... seek wheelchairs to buy on the cheap {rob mobility of its parts} claim art works of blues engage conversation with… Click here to read these poems Tiger Tiger by Ashley Dean It is night and she unzips her skin at the seam over her spine, spilling out muscle and bone and blood. It is night and she unfolds from the body she wears during the day and goes walking. Click here to read this flash fiction story God’s Gift to Me by Anthony D. Lafond My wheelchair is a part of me. When he moves, it is like a tank under my control. My wheelchair has a chair like a portable bed. His wheels are round like a balloon. And his motor moves me as fast as a 10-speed bike. Click here to read this poem Too Wonderfully Strange by Judith Krum
And
for this aged priest to be asked to help. That was just
extraordinary. He thought of the Christmas Child, vulnerable and tiny,
dependent, trusting. And trust was what it was all about. Trust in his
own ability to give care, to maintain a calm exterior, to not weep.
Trust in his willingness to be vulnerable himself. He wasn't wearing
his clericals - no collar or stole or chasuble to mask his fear. Just
his skin and his casual jeans. Click here to read this creative non-fiction piece Upon Waking in Five Center By Elisa Karbin Oh sweet girl, what I wouldn’t give to spread out my madness like a map before you, to take your small hand and guide it down the divergent paths of blackness and light… Click here to read this poem Do People With Disabilities Sometimes Wear Orange? On Sunday, November 27 2011, Mike Reynolds, the web master for Ability Maine, ROSC and Breath and Shadow, was arrested at Governor Lepage's mansion in Augusta, Maine. Reynolds was participating in the Occupy Maine protest, as a part of the now nationwide Occupy Wall Street movement. After his brief incarceration, Reynolds agreed to talk with us. Click here to read this interview
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