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Lori Desrosiers

That Pomegranate Shine

By Lori Desrosiers I was the wrong kind of bride,
more sweat than glisten,
more peach than pomegranate.
Randall Horton

Note from a Prodigal Son III

By Randall Horton The gavel
The splintered body
The red-neck guards
Philip Metres

For the Fifty (Who Formed PEACE With Their Bodies)

By Philip Metres In the green beginning,
in the morning mist,
they emerge from their chrysalis
Remica L. Bingham

Final Exam Administration

By Remica L. Bingham I enter to find all the students in uniform
occupying a small room.
Melisa Cahnmann-Taylor

After The UPS Man Shouted “Feed Your Baby At Home” Through His Truck Window

By Melisa Cahnmann-Taylor Bionic Feeding Woman
whips breasts out, sprays
privacy netting over him
Dan Vera

Judicial Temperament

By Dan Vera Thurgood whispers in Sonia's ears
You know they said the same things about me?
Master two languages, graduate at the top
Martha Collins


By Martha Collins not as in pin, the kind that keeps the wheels
turning, and not the strip of land that marks
the border between two fields. unrelated
Cornelius Eady


By Cornelius Eady A warning one white friend hisses
To the one standing nearest to me
At an Upper West Side newsstand.
Martín Espada

The Republic of Poetry

By Martín Espada In the republic of poetry,
a train full of poets
rolls south in the rain
Francisco Aragón


By Francisco Aragón Despite the absent head (whose eyes

were the green of apples)
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