Skip to Content
Tara Betts I am sitting in a café with my boy
that I have known longer than my
students have been alive, before the birth
Christopher Soto I’m his // retired slut // on food stamps // forever
Sniffing horse tranquilizer // seeing digital dreams
Like a kitten // with eyes sewn shut // like syzygy
Lauren Camp The soup cooks for an hour while vultures and buzzards pluck the market.
My father wipes his forehead with a white cloth.
Once, each day began with khubz and samoon
Wo Chan She closed the doors
and then the blinds
and then her face, midday.
Ellen Kombiyil We are on the plane now
crossing ocean. The pressurized
air is sweet not stale never
stale, the cabin set for
Pat Parker (d.) I wish I could be
the lover you want
Linda Hogan I thank the eagle and Old Mother for this prayer
I send to earth and sky
and the sacred waters. I thank Old Mother
and the golden eagle, the two who taught me to pray
Richard Blanco Such has been the patient sufferance...
We're a mother's bread, instant potatoes, milk at checkout line; her three children pleading for bubble gum and their father. We're the three minutes she steals to page a tabloid, needing to believe even stars' lives are as joyful and bruised.
Kathy Engel Praise the words and what
defies words, the mamas and
fathers, all the beloveds
Minal Hajratwala Your rage is pomegranates spilling open on ice, is the flute’s thin silver seam, is a volcano spitting rivulets of fire to wash clean these corrupt lands.