Water Birth
By JoAnn BalingitThere’s no usurping her pain
now the baby’s head is crowning
mom mom mom mom mom
no panting I say
take deep breaths through your nose
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Druid Hill Park, Baltimore MD
By Jalynn HarrisAt the entrance, six copper pillars stand tall as a wave
as once did six-fingered Lucille. She lived here, too–
The light alone enough to fill the lake. I walk the park
because I’m weak. All flesh and fur needing
to get out my bark. My rough squeeze of please please
A red bird. Another mile. My feet eat the concrete.
historicity
By Samia Salibagolden shovel after karl marx, walter benjamin, richard siken, & zaina alsous
“the tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living”
- karl marx
in american cemeteries the dead overlap, the
hillside ostentatious in the catholic tradition.
Sargassum / Sargazo
By Ana Portnoy BrimmerThere’s so much to be learned from that which floats A patience
from the Gulf of Mexico to a sea of its name sargassum
drifts hand in hand with itself
ETYMOLOGY OF BORDERS
By Jaz SufiBORDER, from the Middle English bordure, meaning “the decorative band
surrounding a shield,” a heraldic device intended to identify
possession — this flag flies over that land, & so this land belongs
to…
when we banish tongues
By Tanaya Winderi.
we've entered a New World
Order on words, days
of economic deprivation
where only one percent thrives.
time is dictated by greediness
and fear, days when books
are banned by the belief
consumed.
What Good Is Heaven
By Raye Hendrixwhen my mother dreamed of children she pictured
things in bowls beautiful fish gracing over
brightly colored stones clear water a bowl of her favorite
fruits ceramic overflowing pears and tangerines
blueberries fat with sweet
Princess Powerpuff / Chemical X
By Jasmine Reidi spread at my touch & clit
contemplating my beauty this Monday i live
the pleasure of my fingers
how i am in-the-making by hand
by pill by needle i am the perfect girl
professor, in fact, Chemical X is my love
in gradients of acidity i am
milkless except by oats, by meal made of itself
Washateria Blues
By Farrah FangIn Houston they don’t really call it a laundromat
It’s a washateria or la lavandería
Today you go to the one on Airline and Tidwell
The chronic pain and weakness in your body
Makes it difficult to relocate canastos of clothes
From home to your car, to the washateria, to inside the machine
Silhouette
By Ladan OsmanI enter: carpet, curtains,
large, framed pictures of robed white men,
a glassy glare over a forehead, below the voice box,
students in bland shades.
I don’t belong, the luxury of thinking,
the wealth of talking about thought,
privilege of ease among important people.