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Joseph O. Legaspi

The Red Sweater

By Joseph O. Legaspi slides down into my body, soft
lambs wool, what everybody
in school is wearing, and for me
Patricia Monaghan

Knowing the Bomb So Well

By Patricia Monaghan After the nightly news and four martinis
he quietly begins to draw the inner workings
of the bomb, knowing the explosion needed
Chris August

Oil: A Love Poem

By Chris August America, don’t we love like oil?
Don’t our slippery arms
Pave the pores of those who need us?
Randall Horton

Note from a Prodigal Son III

By Randall Horton The gavel
The splintered body
The red-neck guards
Cornelius Eady

Manchild

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

Torso

By Francisco Aragón Despite the absent head (whose eyes

were the green of apples)
Allison Adelle Hedge Coke

America, I Sing Back

By Allison Adelle Hedge Coke America, I sing back. Sing back what sung you in.
Sing back the moment you cherished breath.
Sing you home into yourself and back to reaso
Jan Beatty

Zen of Tipping

By Jan Beatty My friend Lou
used to walk up to strangers
and tip them - no, really -
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