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Paul Tran Desert born. Wild
As corn. Dry
Bitch. Itchy clit.
Joshua Jennifer Espinoza Like light but
in reverse we billow.
We turn a corner
and make the hills
Imani Davis a political statement walks into an art classroom. it could be the walls, or her bones, either way
some white structure will soon betray her with its crumbling.
Trace DePass [And legal] now.
[Taking full advantage of the enough he is.
Might go sign up for the war.
Keith Wilson shall i tell you, then, that we exist?
there came a light, blue and white careening,
the police like wailing angels
to bitter me.
Kathi Wolfe In an elevator trapped
between the fifteenth and sixteenth
floor of her apartment building,
Sunday morning, Elizabeth, her cane
Paul Tran TO SAY IT PLAIN. He comes inside
without a sound. I shut the door
I should have never opened. My body
flips over on the bed like a coin
Nicholas Samaras What is that red throbbing over the sound of engines?
Why is a distant war still being talked about in the media?
I can't see my home or Iraq or the Middle East
outside this bowed rectangle of blue altitude.
Dan Vera This is what is feared:
that flags do not nourish the blood,
that history is not glorious or truthful.
Jacob Rakovan The bones cast in the field like seed corn grow nothing,
grow briars in the boarded gas stations
brown stalks ready for the fire.