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Lauren K. Alleyne Tonight you are full of small rivers:
your eyes’ salty runoff, the rust-bright
trickle staining your thigh, the unnamable,
Jill Khoury The boy across the street points at me and lisps—now I know what they mean in books
when they say children lisp. He wears a red and white striped t-shirt, addresses my friend who
walks beside me. I ask people to please walk on my left side. It’s the eye that’s not completely dead
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.
Regie Cabico queer me
tell my students i'm gay
Patricia Davis about his sister how she
to be light
built night in her ribs
Shailja Patel sing history
back onto itself, sing tearing
whole again, sing altered
Franny Choi How'd you get so slice?
Razor pinch all flat-like? All puff
& sting? What's your allergy?
Brenda Cárdenas This body always compost--
hair a plot of thin green stems
snowing a shroud of petals,
Lisa L. Moore Word got out about the bad bill.
College students packed up their bikinis,
went back to Austin to tell those men why
Amaranth Borsuk Few things the hand wished language could
do, given up on dialect's downward spiral:
words so readily betray things they're meant