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Dunya Mikhail Our clay tablets are cracked
Scattered, like us, are the Sumerian letters
“Freedom” is inscribed this way:
Minal Hajratwala Your rage is pomegranates spilling open on ice, is the flute’s thin silver seam, is a volcano spitting rivulets of fire to wash clean these corrupt lands.
Martha Collins Martha Collins performs the poem "On the Other Side" at the 2016 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
Dominique Christina This poem is in video format.
Clint Smith There is a lake here.
A lake the size of
outstretched arms. And no,
not the type of arms raised
Holly Karapetkova There never was a garden
only a leaving:
miles and miles
of footprints in the dirt.
Marcos L. Martínez There are immeasurable ways to count days: on the median the sunflower tracks UV streams: east to west then sleep; an acorn gets weeded out of the common area ‘til another live oak drobs a bomb then sprouts till, yanked away again;
Heather Derr-Smith The fish are opened up like salad bowls,
Slid between the metal bars of baskets,
Roasted in the wood-fired ovens, Iraqi style.
The flesh glows as if it were made of glass.
Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib I think I am breaking up with memory. again. I live
by only that which will still allow me
to do the living. The flag, for example, reminds me
to either feel fear or sadness, depending on how high