Skip to Content
Search Results
Hari Alluri

The Opposite of Holding in Breath—

By Hari Alluri the tea in her glass. It glows the brocade.
Her grandmother picked that tea
on a mountain—a mountain in a war
whose shores were her bed. Steeping, the petals
Karen Finneyfrock

The Newer Colossus

By Karen Finneyfrock My feet have been wilting in this salt-crusted cement
since the French sent me over on a steamer in pieces.
I am the new Colossus, wonder of the modern world,
a woman standing watch at the gate of power.
Kazumi Chin

The Last New Year’s Resolution

By Kazumi Chin The very last mammoth was just like the others,
except more lonely. The very last tortilla chip
makes me feel guilty.The very last line
of the poem changes everything about
Cacayo Ballesteros

Any Given Name

By Cacayo Ballesteros Chapas is what cops are called
in my country
who threw the too tortured
in the lion pits
of the Military Academy zoo
Carlos Andrés Gómez

Juan Valdez (or Why is a white guy like you named “Carlos”?)

By Carlos Andrés Gómez
Peter Cook and Kenny Lerner

Need

By Peter Cook and Kenny Lerner Need, desperate need, eagle-taloned need
is a pumping drill. The oil sloshes
to the brim. The lid slams and it’s a tanker
spewing smoke. It burps and hisses
Rosa Chávez

We, stones, were branded by hot iron

By Rosa Chávez Ri oj ab'aj xkoj qetal ruk'a k'atanalaj ch'ich'
Xk'at ri qab'aq'wach //
Las piedras fuimos marcadas con hierro candente
quemados nuestros ojos //
We, stones, were branded by hot iron
our eyes scorched
Lois Beardslee

Manitogiizans/December

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

Diaspora 2

By Oliver de la Paz The way is written in the dark:

it has steel in it, something metallic, a gun,

a mallet, a piece of machinery--

something cold like the sea, something,
Craig Santos Perez

From “understory”

By Craig Santos Perez kai cries
from teething--

how do
new parents
Page 4 of 9 pages