Welcome to FLARE: The Flagler Review’s Summer 2018 online edition, which builds on the success of our Spring 2018 print edition. It was important to our editors that we continued to bridge the gap between contrasting ideas and emotions that connect us all through empathy. Exploring empathy has been our focus the entire year, and the beautiful works we have selected for this online edition carry on that theme. We hope these pieces will impact you the same way they have impacted us.
– FLARE Editors
Rachel Dolezal by Madari Pendas
Maybe it began with empathy,
Lástima at the visualizations
Of black women taken in the depth
Of night, invisible against the open
Mouth of the darkness;
Or despair at the footless
Slaves, the trenches in their
Backs like the plowed fields
They bent over, prostrated.
Shooter by Virginia Boudreau
Sunless, white sky day, valentines
day, Massacre Day.
Tired winter trees drifted gauzes
of moss like nurses on call, their arms
draped in bandages, while the shooter
waited, a young shooter, distressed man-
child with bullets to grind as school emptied
for the day, Valentines Day.
Emigration by Zoraida Rivera Morales
I know some lonely houses off the road
Neighbors, aunts, uncles, gone
the yard abandoned,
windows closed or broken.
left on the sill.
Puzzles and Barack Obama by Kameron Ray Morton
Heather, the faculty leader of the service trip, finds me annoying. She is unimpressed by the intermittent knowledge I have of the world around us, like what cotton smells like or how rice fields are flooded or how all this rain is going to kill the crops that have just been planted. I talk about the gallon bags of pecans left for us in the kitchen of the Methodist church we’re staying at, explaining that the bigger ones are called paper shell pecans and you can tell how flavorful they are by snapping them in half and checking for tiny holes where the pieces of the pecan come together. The smaller the holes, the better the pecan. Heather thinks I’m a know-it-all because a girl who grew up in the second largest city in Arkansas and is afraid of bugs couldn’t possibly know anything about the Arkansas Delta.
Protest by Nina Schuyler
We three sit in the baby blue station wagon on McAllister, right across from City Hall.
It’s 1965 and our mother is out there again, screaming her face red, waving her sign, U.S. ARMS
U.S. MONEY U.S. MEN AND U.S. STUPIDITY MAKE THE WAR IN VIETNAM.