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Rajiv Mohabir A twist of cotton
daubed in oil
catches flame, an echo
Joseph Ross When you walk past Klans-
men, smiling at you
on your way into the court
house, wondering how
Jeanann Verlee I finish a small hot plate of grease & salt, & push the scraped-clean plate across the counter for someone else to scrub / this, I say I have paid for but it doesn't fit
Kyle Dargan Naturally, the gun is purchased from a farm in Virginia—pulled from a bushel of barrels
by a tremorous hand, a young man’s. His other fist proffers sweat-wilted dollars. The
farmer, compensated, keeps his gaze down as to remember nothing of the boy’s face.
Charlie Bondhus At the mirror I heft
elbows, belly, cock,
say hematocrit—44.3; hemoglobin—15.2;
Oliver de la Paz The way is written in the dark:
it has steel in it, something metallic, a gun,
a mallet, a piece of machinery--
something cold like the sea, something,
Adele Hampton I'm not afraid to say abortion. It's a word that falls lead-heavy out of the mouth like your tongue can't handle the weight society hangs from its unassuming letters.
Persis M. Karim Take their limbs strewn about the streets—
multiply by a thousand and one.
Ask everyone in Baghdad who has lost