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Amina Iro

26

By Amina Iro This poem is in video format.
Lois Beardslee

Manitogiizans/December

By Lois Beardslee When I asked my mother
If she could remember
What her mother's mother called December

Landscapes that Remind Me of My Children / Pasajes que me Recuerdan a Mis Hijos

By Lourdes Galván Utica is a pretty and quiet country
When I was at the bus station
my son would say to me, 'mom, I am hungry'
and a man who was sweeping came up to me
Beth Spencer

The World Where It Is

By Beth Spencer In the atrium of the principal church
in a certain Irish city
it is said a girl can find beneath a bench
among the tea roses the name of an abortionist.
Peter J. Harris

Don’t Even Pretend (The Saturn Poem)

By Peter J. Harris Saturn's rings was all nappy
spread out from her head
like she just woke up
took a shower & aint dried them yet
Kelli Stevens Kane

bitter crop

By Kelli Stevens Kane blueberry blackberry as always
bleeding, back road or boulevard,
our boy crowned with baton,
Abdul Ali

Amistad

By Abdul Ali My father and I run into each other at the edge of Lower Manhattan,
World Trade Center, where there’s a movie house.

We tiptoe down the slope, making our way to our seats.
Jennifer Chang

Dorothy Wordsworth

By Jennifer Chang The daffodils can go fuck themselves.
I’m tired of their crowds, yellow rantings
about the spastic sun that shines and shines
and shines. How are they any different
T. J. Jarrett

Of Late, I Have Been Thinking About Despair

By T. J. Jarrett its ruthless syntax, and the ease with which it interjects
itself into our days. I thought how best to explain this—

this dark winter, but that wasn’t it, or beds unshared
but that isn’t exactly it either, until I remembered
Hermine Pinson

Test for Cognitive Function

By Hermine Pinson Mother

Slipper

July

“ I will ask you to recall these words

at the end of our session”
Page 17 of 23 pages