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Bennie Herron

part 1…us as we are

By Bennie Herron i always thought
babies came from dancing
i owned every color of
corduroyed pants
Ellen Hagan

What We Do—Now

By Ellen Hagan We mourn, we bless,
we blow, we wail, we
wind—down, we sip,
we spin, we blind, we
Dawn Lundy Martin

The American middle class ...

By Dawn Lundy Martin The American middle class is screwed again but they don’t know it.
Politics is a gleaming nowhere. Žižek fantasizes about Capitalism’s
inevitable end.
Ross Gay

ode to the puritan in me

By Ross Gay There is a puritan in me
the brim of whose
hat is so sharp
it could cut
your tongue out
Linda Hogan

History

By Linda Hogan This is the word that is always bleeding.
You didn't think this
until you country changes and when it thunders
you search your own body
Sholeh Wolpé

How Hard Is It to Write a Love Song?

By Sholeh Wolpé Last night a sparrow flew into my house,
crashed against the skylight and died:
I want to write a love song.
Amal Al-Jubouri

Baghdad Before the Occupation

By Amal Al-Jubouri —My solitude, to which I always returned
City that kept my secret religion in her libraries

I came back to rest my head on her shoulder
and with just one look, she saw how tired I was
Zeina Azzam

Leaving My Childhood Home

By Zeina Azzam On our last day in Beirut
with my ten years packed in a suitcase,
my best friend asked for a keepsake.
I found a little tin box
Hala Alyan

Bandits

By Hala Alyan You were mama’s; first and only boy, sable eyelashes long as an ostrich. Operatic, I claimed baba, his books and his sulk, first of the unrequited loves. What we took we took unasked.
Elexia Alleyne

The Love for My Culture

By Elexia Alleyne Maybe it’s the Spanish running through my veins
That’s the only way I know how to explain it
Maybe it’s the r’s rrrolling off my tongue
See,
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