Cover - Maddie Shea 2 - Slutwalk Atlanta 3- Naomi Yorde (Art), Hannah Lawless (Poem) 4 - Ethan Crane (Poem), Daniela Rodriguez (Art) 5- Annie Ho (Words), Daniela Rodriguez (Art) 6- Will Stanier (Poem), Blake Morris (Middle Drawing), Maddie Shea (Bottom Drawing) 7 - Naomi Yorde 8 - Blake Morris (Top Drawing), Anonymous (Bottom) 9 -Will Stanier (Top), Bailey Shea (Bottom) 10 - Will Stanier (Poem), Blake Morris (Drawing) 11 - Jeanne Davis (Poems), Sarah Kennedy (Art) 12 - Ethan Crane (Poem), Gabi Andino (Drawings), Maddie Shea (Art) Edited by Annie Ho and Maddie Shea
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Slutwalk Atlanta is a nonprofit organization based in the heart of Atlanta. Our mission is to combat street harassment with a voice. We are a feminist movement utilizing our time, efforts, and bodies to stick up for the victims of street harassment. Our primary form of outreach to the community, is our Annual Slutwalk demonstration. Slutwalk 2016 took place in Woodruff Park and had over fifty members from all across Georgia. As our members and organization are growing, we expect to have an exponential turn out for Slutwalk 2017. We are hosting an event in October 2016 as part of Atlanta Pride. Add us on Facebook for updates and events to take a stance against Street Harassment.
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12 p.m.
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sweat pooling on philtrum dripping onto vinyl seat collecting on back-of-knee if you remove the salt is it safe to drink
Life My eyelids fall to the ground, My mask is vulnerable: No visor rises, my sight is Shallow. I close my eyes like a History textbook, A scar on my thumb Is my permanent exhibition. Your nails dig trenches, Deep and curving, Marking where you once Tilled my earth. I bend, knotted and Feet planted, Another winter over, And begin to sprout once more.
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Good Luck no work of art is ever worth a dime a good chance you won’t make it out alive have you noticed our neighbor is dying? I wonder if he’s ever tasted his own sperm the body only knows itself by trying I’m trying to say good luck.
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Fate I cannot count the nights I kneeled, orans, the folds of my Skin burning, and telling me To go no closer. Fate runs straight and Caresses my middle finger, The same finger I find Wet in your mouth and Raised at your face. Fate runs more straight Than you or I ever will. I scrape my mind like the Sides of a bowl, The scratching spoon echoes, Crumbs of your beauty, Rest under my nails. I scrape them out with my canine tooth And savor them, for the straight road says This will be my last meal.
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