First, they came for our masks!
Then they came for our muzzles!
But… we’d been masked for so long
We all felt naked without them!

We’d been muzzled for so long,
We couldn’t find our voices!
Naked and voiceless, we wandered in darkness.
“Didn’t there used to be a sun?” someone wondered,

Pointing…. “Didn’t there used to be a moon?”
Someone else wondered, pointing.
We covered our nakedness with our hands.
We were ashamed…for what had been taken…

Gary Steven Corseri is the grandson of Ukrainian-Jewish and Sicilian-Catholic immigrants. He has performed his poems at the Carter Presidential Library and his dramas have been produced on PBS-Atlanta and in universities, high schools and Little Theaters. He has published 2 novels, 1 full collection and 1 prize-winning chapbook of poems. His poems, articles, fiction, dramas have appeared in hundreds of global publications & websites, including: Countercurrents, Village Voice, Redbook Magazine, Miami Herald, The New York Times, and Transcend Media Service. He has taught at universities in the U.S. and Japan, and in US prisons and public schools. He has worked as a grape-picker in Australia, a gas-station attendant, and an editor.




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