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By Rasheed Copeland
It took us this long to slow our dying
down to a languid and sensible pace
wherein the sugar might claim each our limbs
By Joseph Green
This poem is in video format.
By Everett Hoagland
Architect of icebergs, snowflakes,
crystals, rainbows, sand grains, dust motes, atoms.
Mason whose tools are glaciers, rain, rivers, ocean.
Chemist who made blood
By Sherwin Bitsui
Father's dying ceased
when he refunded this ours
for fused hands plaster-coated
By Lauren (Lo) May
twitter feminists will scream
my brown eyes be beautiful
while labeling the grey and green “exotic”
love my “black girl afro” when it's plucked and fluffy
By Javier Zamora
His grandma made the best pupusas, the counselor wrote next to Stick-Figure Abuelita
(I’d colored her puffy hair black with a pen).
Earlier, Dad in his truck: “always look gringos in the eyes.”
Mom: “never tell them everything, but smile, always smile.”
By Kazim Ali
I place the peach gummy on my tongue
I have come to Boulder, Colorado with an agenda which is what
It is my intention to rewrite the cosmic legislation which governs time and space to better allow for what I am for now calling the anarchy of sense
By Hieu Minh Nguyen
If things happen
the way they are supposed to
my mother will die before me.
By Alan King
The diner's nearly empty
when you both arrive - except for
the six or so other patrons and
a waitress who calls everyone "Hun".
By Rajiv Mohabir
A twist of cotton
daubed in oil
catches flame, an echo