Skip to Content
Search Results
Kevin Simmonds

Ars Poetica

By Kevin Simmonds I can write a poem
to the limbs of a grandmother
seeded in a scorched field
where her house stood
Nicholas Samaras

Anxiety Attack at 27,000 Feet

By Nicholas Samaras What is that red throbbing over the sound of engines?
Why is a distant war still being talked about in the media?
I can't see my home or Iraq or the Middle East
outside this bowed rectangle of blue altitude.
Lauren K. Alleyne

Grace Before Meals

By Lauren K. Alleyne As a child, I'd refuse to eat my veggies,
pushing them round and round my plate
until my mother's glare unclamped my jaw
Joy Harjo

Anchorage

By Joy Harjo This city is made of stone, of blood, and fish.
There are Chugatch Mountains to the east
and whale and seal to the west.
celeste doaks

Single Twin Band Crush

By celeste doaks Aaron and Anita, the first real twins I ever personally knew,
drum majored our ragged band in high school called--
the Marching LaSalle Lions. Anita was the outgoing,
Susan Scheid

When We Ruled the World

By Susan Scheid There we stood, dressed like Egyptians
or what we thought Egyptians should look like
from all our National Geographic magazines.
Eduardo Corral

Cayucos

By Eduardo C. Corral A girl asleep beneath a fishing net
Sandals the color of tangerines
Off the coast of Morocco
David Mura

Minneapolis Public

By David Mura There are 150 first languages in our schools
and so many aliens even E.T. would go unnoticed,
though if your tongue moved one way in the land of your birth
Dan Vera

The Borders Are Fluid Within Us

By Dan Vera This is what is feared:
that flags do not nourish the blood,
that history is not glorious or truthful.
Samiya Bashir

Manistee Lights

By Samiya Bashir Brother I don't either understand this
skipscrapple world that is--these
slick bubble cars zip feverish down
Page 6 of 9 pages