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Tim Seibles

Zombie Blues Villanelle

By Tim Seibles There are days I believe there ain' nothing to fear
I perk up for green lights, my engine on call
But it could be the zombies are already near
Rachel McKibbens

Across the Street from the Whitmore Home for Girls, 1949

By Rachel McKibbens The Mad Girls climb the wet hill,
breathe the sharp air through sick-green lungs.
The Wildest One wanders off like an old cow
Melanie Graham

The Price of a Life

By Melanie Graham She appears again, 2-year-old riding her hip,
grief so great he can see through her birkha, past Qualaday,
into the kitchen, his mother nurturing chicken
in popping grease.
Reginald Harris

Normal

By Reginald Harris walk long enough
with a pebble in your shoe
and walking with a pebble becomes
normal
Rashida James-Saadiya

Rain Dance

By Rashida James-Saadiya we scatter
dodge words that rip into flesh
hide from clenched fist
Patricia Monaghan

Knowing the Bomb So Well

By Patricia Monaghan After the nightly news and four martinis
he quietly begins to draw the inner workings
of the bomb, knowing the explosion needed
Jeffrey McDaniel

Air Empathy

By Jeffrey McDaniel On the red-eye from Seattle, a two-year-old
in the seat behind me screeches

his miniature guts out.
Fady Joudah

Anonymous Song

By Fady Joudah When the shooting began
Everyone ran to the trucks
Grabbed whatever their backs needed
And made for the trucks
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