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Heidi Andrea Restrepo Rhodes

Til the Taste of Free in Our Mouths (Brown Baby Lullaby)

By Heidi Andrea Restrepo Rhodes Wake. Wake.
These the nights we sing. These the folds,
unborn reverie, ambition marbled mud & shine,
raging anthem born like diamonds out darkest ash & rain
Rigoberto González

things that shine in the night

By Rigoberto González Fulgencio's silver crown--when he snores
the moon, coin of Judas, glaring
at the smaller metals we call stars
my buckle
Vincent Toro

Nonstop from Fruitvale to Ursa Major: Threnody for Los Desaparecidos* of The United States

By Vincent Toro A lung lit like diesel
is not fable or fodder.

Is not sewage siphoned from stern
and starboard. Cuffs, not slapdash plums
plunge from your garden
Martín Espada

Alabanza

By Martín Espada
Carlos Andrés Gómez

Juan Valdez (or Why is a white guy like you named “Carlos”?)

By Carlos Andrés Gómez
Natalie Diaz

Ode to the Beloved’s Hips

By Natalie Diaz
Eduardo Corral

In Colorado My Father Scoured and Stacked Dishes

By Eduardo C. Corral
Allison Adelle Hedge Coke

First Morning Poem

By Allison Adelle Hedge Coke In a room facing chimneys
over the place Nancy Morejón rests
between sleeps lining free lines
she whispers to hearing DC:
Ruth Irupé Sanabria

Hija

By Ruth Irupé Sanabria I am the daughter of doves
That disappeared into dust
Hear my pulse whisper:
Marie-Elizabeth Mali

Oceanside, CA

By Marie-Elizabeth Mali Balancing on crutches in the shallows
near her mother, a girl missing her right lower leg
swings her body and falls, laughing.
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