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Sarah Browning

Gas

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.
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,
Danez Smith

Our Movable Mecca

By Danez Smith we who were born into conundrum, came into the world as the world was leaving, children
of the ozone, the oppressed, the overlooked, of obtuse greed, of oil overlords, of oblong
definitions of justice
Richard Blanco

Declaration of Inter-Dependence

By Richard Blanco Such has been the patient sufferance...
We're a mother's bread, instant potatoes, milk at checkout line; her three children pleading for bubble gum and their father. We're the three minutes she steals to page a tabloid, needing to believe even stars' lives are as joyful and bruised.
Kathy Engel

Ode To What We Make

By Kathy Engel Praise the words and what
defies words, the mamas and
fathers, all the beloveds
Vincent Toro

Vox Populi for the Marooned

By Vincent Toro Like a charm of goldfinches we will gather. We will gather at the sea
crest and inside toppled cubicles, drawing upon this horizon of shady
treaties and chemical weapons depots as if cajoled toward the coast
Jen Hofer

conditions

By Jen Hofer what dateless body what we exacted or nixed or hexed in the eternal present of not being able to – what not being able to not be considered garbage or trashed by the bag
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,
Marcos L. Martínez

2001 Mill Road, Alexandria, VA

By Marcos L. Martínez There are immeasurable ways to count days: on the median the sunflower tracks UV streams: east to west then sleep; an acorn gets weeded out of the common area ‘til another live oak drobs a bomb then sprouts till, yanked away again;
Jee Leong Koh

Attribution

By Jee Leong Koh My grandfather said life was better under the British.
He was a man who begrudged his words but he did say this.

I was born after the British left
an alphabet in my house, the same book they left in school.
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