2 poems from Dee Allen


Need to be 
Ignored. Tuned out.

Self-appointed judges 
Hidden behind social media profiles
Are cyberwaste for a reason.

We live in a country
That prides itself
On freedom and

Freedom is
Letting the woman
You are inside
Take a walk outside—among us.

There's nothing wrong 
With having your beauty lean
Toward a dark, otherworldly aesthetic:

Teased black crown of hair,
Facial foundation
Like snowy Northern winter,
Long black lashes above brown eyes

Flutter like moth's wings
When blinking, 
Vampiric fangs
Show in your blackened plump lip smile,

Black leather collar with leash ring
On neck, rosaries & crucifix, companion pieces,
Shiny black claws tip your fingers,
Lacy black dress,

Flowing sleeves,
Black leather conch belt with chains,
Torn fishnets,
Demonia® platform boots—

Your keys 
To contentment 
Are worn.

“Dressing up normal”
Would seem like donning
A Halloween costume.

The most liberated 
People live out
Their best lives.

Visiting cemeteries in the day,
Prowling shopping malls with friends,
Attending live concerts or doing photoshoots,

You're demonstrating liberty
The U.S. Constitution only mentions and
The slavish Normal would envy and

Freedom is
Letting the woman
You are inside
Take a walk outside—for keeps.

W: 3.11.22
[ For Mamie Hades, YouTube®/TikTok®/Instagram® sensation. ]


I'd spent my entire
Young adult life
In active search of

Made me leave the Heavy Metal scene.
Made me leave the Punk Scene.
High school clique-level immaturity
Made me leave the Circle-A scene.
Lack of a lover and peers of similar tastes
Made me shed
Black Gothic threads
In favour of colours.

In my pursuit through the crowds,
I found myself in pieces, went

From Metalhead
To Punk
To Goth
And Anarchist combo.

Those years, those stages were fun,
But they ended
With dissatisfaction
Or the taste of spew.

The Mainstream don't want me
And the Underground doesn't either.

I don't see a contingent of folks with
Open arms, happily chanting
One of us, one of us, one of us
To me

Any time soon.

Through the looks, crowds, years, stages,
I found myself in pieces, went

From Metalhead
To Punk
To Goth
And Anarchist combo.

Now, I'm nothing
But a subculture of one.

W: 5.3.22
[ For Barbara Mercer, Darren J. Beaney and Nick Paleologos. ]

Bio: Pronouns: He/him/his

Dee Allen.

African-Italian performance poet based in Oakland, California. Active on creative writing & Spoken Word since the early 1990s. Author of 7 books--Boneyard, Unwritten Law, Stormwater, Skeletal Black [ all from POOR Press ], Elohi Unitsi [ Conviction 2 Change Publishing ] and his 2 newest, Rusty Gallows: Passages Against Hate [ Vagabond Books ] and Plans [ Nomadic Press ]--and 53 anthology appearances under his figurative belt so far.

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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