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Ching-In Chen

American Syntax

By Ching-In Chen The teacher straightbacked,
faced me off, her eyes.
My face in the cleave of
her shoulder, my bones
Zara Houshmand

Humor Difficult to Translate

By Zara Houshmand The label says Afghan Comedian
and nothing more, no artist, no provenance,
just a monitor’s unlidded eye embedded
Reginald Harris

Normal

By Reginald Harris walk long enough
with a pebble in your shoe
and walking with a pebble becomes
normal
Rashida James-Saadiya

Rain Dance

By Rashida James-Saadiya we scatter
dodge words that rip into flesh
hide from clenched fist
Rich Villar

Always Here

By Rich Villar lacking a proper entrance
into a poem
about Arizona Senate Bill 1070
Marie-Elizabeth Mali

Blast

By Marie-Elizabeth Mali Pulling out of Union Square station, the subway
sounds the first three notes of There's a place for us,
somewhere a place for us. A woman sits on me, shoves
Yvette Neisser Moreno

So This Is How They Decided to Take Him

By Yvette Neisser Moreno So this is how they decided to take him—
at the end of his life,
his frame shrunken, his wild rambling days over
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
Jose Padua

A Portrait of America in Trash

By Jose Padua I give to you a portrait of America in trash.
I give it to you with love and respect, America:
mountains of beer cans crumpled, plastic figures
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
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