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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
Fred Joiner

Currency

By Fred Joiner a pocket can sometimes be
a kind of prison,

I have never lived in
Keith Wilson

Black Matters

By Keith Wilson shall i tell you, then, that we exist?
there came a light, blue and white careening,
the police like wailing angels
to bitter me.
Keno Evol

on meeting a brother for the first time

By Keno Evol the night i was to meet my brother for the first time in 23 years he ain’t show / absence is not what comes up from that memory / more it was the dusk in September / how fog can hide a growl
Aracelis Girmay

YOU ARE WHO I LOVE

By Aracelis Girmay You, selling roses out of a silver grocery cart

You, in the park, feeding the pigeons
You cheering for the bees

You with cats in your voice in the morning, feeding cats
Kathy Engel

Ode To What We Make

By Kathy Engel Praise the words and what
defies words, the mamas and
fathers, all the beloveds
Craig Santos Perez

Spam’s Carbon Footprint

By Craig Santos Perez
Zeina Hashem Beck

Naming Things

By Zeina Hashem Beck
Aracelis Girmay

excerpt from “The Black Maria”

By Aracelis Girmay
Luis Alberto Ambroggio

Enough!

By Luis Alberto Ambroggio Poetry might never have seen
that categorical word,
but in its charged belligerence
of emotions and in its profound determination,
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