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November 30, 2010

by Julene Tripp Weaver

I still mourn Judy Garland
with the queers at Stonewall—
I was one of the flamboyant ones
who’d had enough. Salt-sweat
mascara running my face
getting on with my grief for
my girl. Cop raid ire-fire
this is my right, my life,
you bet I snapped.
Don’t push us
when we mourn.

Judy Garland (June 10, 1922 – June 22, 1969)

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Julene Tripp Weaver lives in Seattle. Finishing Line Press published her chapbook Case Walking: An AIDS Case Manager Wails her Blues, with poems inspired by her work for 18 years in HIV Services. Her poems are published in many journals and several anthologies, including Hot Metal Press, Gemini Magazine, Chicken Piñata, Outward Link, Blossombones, The Smoking Poet, Drash and Future Earth Magazine, and in the anthology A Dream in the Clouds, featuring art inspired by the 2008 Presidential Election. Her first full size book will be published next year. She does wordplay on Twitter @trippweavepoet.

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  1. Risa Denenberg
    November 30, 2010 at 3:22 pm

    I’m glad to have come across this today. It speaks to my heart.

  2. December 2, 2010 at 12:09 am

    Don’t push us
    when we mourn.

    Amen. Great little poem.

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