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By Deborah A. Miranda
Wife and dogs have gone to bed.
I sit here with the front door open.
Crickets sing patiently, a long lullaby
in lazy harmony. Rain falls
By Tanya Paperny
click on a live stream
of a memorial event
to commemorate victims
of Soviet terror
By Kim Marshall
We rush toward change, ask:
do you love me?
By M. F. Simone Roberts
Begin with da Vinci’s hybrid
of spring and top, of wood and iron,
and completely non-aerodynamic,
then crystallize the blue of the lagoon
By Terisa Siagatonu
The evening news helicopters compete for the best camera angle
above the water, fighting to find anything worthy of coverage.
A floating high chief. A baby’s arm flattened by a coconut tree. Anything.
Even the Titanic was enormous enough to leave remnants of itself
By Sherwin Bitsui
Father's dying ceased
when he refunded this ours
for fused hands plaster-coated
By Paulette Beete
Orlando Jones, a black actor, douses himself
in a bucket of bullets. I flinch. Bullet against
brown skin even without the bruised and
busted aftermath is no easy thing to bear.
By Sharon Olds
They put roofs over our heads.
Ours was made of bent tiles,
so the edge of the roof had a broken look,
By Dan Vera
A is for apple.
B is for banana – treasure fruit of the tropics
which replaced the apple on the breakfast table of Victorian America.
C is for Carmen Miranda smiling
By Camille T. Dungy
Is it difficult to get away from it all once you've had a child?
I am swaying in the galley — working
to appease this infant who is not