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Camisha Jones

My Hair Starts the Revolution

By Camisha Jones What you know bout ballin'
your every fiber into a tight fist,
letting the naps of history
that birthed you unfurl
Destiny O. Birdsong

To the Black Virgin Mary on a Steeple in Greensburg, PA

By Destiny O. Birdsong Or maybe you weren’t. Whenever I’m frightened,
anything can become a black woman in a granite dress:
scaffold for what’s to come: blue lights exploding
like an aurora at the base of the bridge;
Claire Hermann

Dominion

By Claire Hermann God separated the light from the darkness,
but I have a light switch.
Once there was morning and evening,
but now someone has torn the heart out of a mountain,
Alan King

The Journey

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".
Zahara Heckscher

This is a Love Song

By Zahara Heckscher This is a love song
to the invisible waves
that travel through the air
finding the antenna
Kim Roberts

Hatchery

By Kim Roberts Hundreds of tiny fry
crowd the single tank,
churning the water milky.
The fry grow to parr
Remica Bingham-Risher

Love in Stereo

By Remica Bingham-Risher I am almost convinced this morning by the volley
of verses on each frequency, roughnecks telling it

like they want it to be, intoning You bad, baby
Nesha Ruther

L’Chaim

By Nesha Ruther L’chaim to my rabbi who gets red in the face during prayer
and sings off-tune
we can always hear him.
Reuben Jackson

April 1975

By Reuben Jackson Should my black
Flatlander eyes
Lock on the other
Tara Betts

F.U.B.U.

By Tara Betts I am sitting in a café with my boy
that I have known longer than my
students have been alive, before the birth
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