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Joseph O. Legaspi

The Red Sweater

By Joseph O. Legaspi slides down into my body, soft
lambs wool, what everybody
in school is wearing, and for me
Frank X Walker

Mothers Day

By Frank X Walker When the universe reached out for your daughter's
daughter and she reached out for you, your hands
were too full of furniture to hold her
Grace Cavalieri


By Grace Cavalieri Maybe she had dementia,
the old lady in the woolen hat,
I don't know, but she
Patricia Monaghan

Knowing the Bomb So Well

By Patricia Monaghan After the nightly news and four martinis
he quietly begins to draw the inner workings
of the bomb, knowing the explosion needed
Carly Sachs


By Carly Sachs Where does memory go?
Our windows looking out on the bay,
my wet clothes hanging on the antlers
Jericho Brown

Prayer of the Backhanded

By Jericho Brown Not the palm, not the pear tree
Switch, not the broomstick,
Nor the closet extension
Cord, not his braided belt, but God
Lori Desrosiers

That Pomegranate Shine

By Lori Desrosiers I was the wrong kind of bride,
more sweat than glisten,
more peach than pomegranate.
Randall Horton

Note from a Prodigal Son III

By Randall Horton The gavel
The splintered body
The red-neck guards
Lita Hooper

One Man’s Plea

By Lita Hooper Frederick Lake has been to prison
finished his time
convicted in 1989
Ocean Vuong

Kissing in Vietnamese

By Ocean Vuong My grandmother kisses
as if bombs are bursting in the backyard,
where mint and jasmine lace their perfumes
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