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Jeneva Stone

Death Valley, California

By Jeneva Stone close to the Nevada border salt
flats dry beds octagonal or hexed

one constant the wind another
dryness the two wicked all away
Sally Wen Mao

Aubade with Gravel and Gold

By Sally Wen Mao I’m sick of speaking for women who’ve died
Their stories and their disappearances
bludgeon me in my sleep
Kazim Ali


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
Hieu Minh Nguyen


By Hieu Minh Nguyen If things happen
the way they are supposed to
my mother will die before me.
Sarah Browning


By Sarah Browning After the great snow of 2016, my car sits
locked in icy drifts a week, green fossil
of the oil age preserved in graying amber.
Melissa Tuckey


By Melissa Tuckey Unable to sleep,
the blankets wrapped in waves, waves
as tall as dreams,
the dream world trying to make sense
Lena Khalaf Tuffaha

Water & Salt

By Lena Khalaf Tuffaha Behind the walls of your jails we wait
heartbeats audible now, muffled thuds
above the current of blood running thin
Ruth Irupé Sanabria


By Ruth Irupé Sanabria My grandfather asked me: could I remember
him, the park, the birds, the bread?
I’ll be dying soon, he said.
Amanda Gorman

In This Place (An American Lyric)

By Amanda Gorman There’s a poem in this place—
in the footfalls in the halls
in the quiet beat of the seats.
It is here, at the curtain of day,
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
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