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Rich Villar

Always Here

By Rich Villar lacking a proper entrance
into a poem
about Arizona Senate Bill 1070
Patricia Spears Jones

Autumn, New York, 1999

By Patricia Spears Jones And I am full of worry I wrote to a friend
Worry, she replied about what—love, money, health?
All of them, I wrote back. It’s autumn, the air is clear
E. Ethelbert Miller


By E. Ethelbert Miller We will all lose our jobs
if not today then tomorrow
Holly Bass

The Furious Dance

By Holly Bass What is a furious dance?
It is not polite.
Does not shuck and jive or shuffle along.
Jody Bolz

Mutanabbi Street

By Jody Bolz Pages flit above the ruined bookstalls.
Blank or dark with words, it doesn’t matter:
paper is as dangerous as ink—as thought.
Sholeh Wolpé

See Them Coming

By Sholeh Wolpé Here come the octopi of war
tentacles wielding guns, missiles
holy books and colorful flags.
Philip Metres

For the Fifty (Who Formed PEACE With Their Bodies)

By Philip Metres In the green beginning,
in the morning mist,
they emerge from their chrysalis
Martín Espada

The Republic of Poetry

By Martín Espada In the republic of poetry,
a train full of poets
rolls south in the rain
Quincy Troupe

The Hours Fly Quick

By Quincy Troupe The hours fly quick on wings of clipped winds
like nonsense blown from mouths of hot air—
people—including my own—form syllables, suds
Francisco Aragón


By Francisco Aragón Despite the absent head (whose eyes

were the green of apples)
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