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Brian Gilmore

philadelphia

By Brian Gilmore like fidel after raiding
moncada barracks

we face history like
seed removed from
soil
Lois Beardslee

Manitogiizans/December

By Lois Beardslee When I asked my mother
If she could remember
What her mother's mother called December
Sara Brickman

Letter From the Water at Guantanamo Bay

By Sara Brickman They do not want me to be a river, but I am unstoppable.
I am the perfect instrument. Capable

of every sound, but here the only sound you hear under
me is No. Is, Please. The men
Sam Taylor

Past Tense

By Sam Taylor And someone in a field found an old car
from the year black with beetles, eaten like lace,
and the sky fell into it, a private thing.
And everyone had a kitchen or a fold-out bed
Ross Gay

To the Fig Tree on 9th and Christian

By Ross Gay Tumbling through the
city in my
mind without once
looking up
Danez Smith

not an elegy for Mike Brown

By Danez Smith I am sick of writing this poem

but bring the boy. his new name

his same old body. ordinary, black

dead thing. bring him & we will mourn
Teresa Scollon

River, Page

By Teresa Scollon Look how you've carried these small bodies
across the ocean, looking for the next one
to hear the story. Look how gently you laid

these children down at the fire where stories are told.
Brenda Cárdenas

Nexus

By Brenda Cárdenas This body always compost--
hair a plot of thin green stems
snowing a shroud of petals,
Danez Smith

juxtaposing the black boy & the bullet

By Danez Smith one is hard & the other tried to be
one is fast & the other was faster
one is loud & one is a song
Dunya Mikhail

from part one of Diary of a Wave Outside the Sea

By Dunya Mikhail Through your eye
history enters
and punctured helmets pour out.
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