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Patrick Rosal

Typhoon Poem

By Patrick Rosal The teacher can’t hear the children
over all this monsoon racket,
all the zillion spoons whacking
the rusty roofs, all the wicked tin streams
flipping full-grown bucks off their hooves.
Gwen Nell Westerman

Linear Process

By Gwen Nell Westerman Our elders say
the universe is a
circle.
Anthony Moll

January 20, 2017

By Anthony Moll We’re looking for that old revolutionary road again
a poet said we’d meet where the grass grows uphill.
I couldn’t think of a better way to describe America
torch in one hand, scrolling through her smart phone with the other
Evie Shockley

philosophically immune

By Evie Shockley can i deduce the nature of humanity from the relationship of american and multinational pharmaceutical corporations to african women with hiv?
Tanya Paperny

Prababushka

By Tanya Paperny click on a live stream
of a memorial event
to commemorate victims
of Soviet terror
Mai Der Vang

Final Dispatch from Laos

By Mai Der Vang Concerning our hollow breasts,
Lice factions multiplying in our hair.

Concerning our unused stomachs,
Molars waiting to chew, taste buds
Kim Marshall

Spring

By Kim Marshall We rush toward change, ask:
how much
do you love me?
M. F. Simone Roberts

Helicopter: A Demilitarization

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
Terisa Siagatonu

The Day After American Samoa Is Under Water

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
Katherine E. Young

Mo(u)rning Poem

By Katherine E. Young This is the poem meant for this mo(u)rning,
now the winds have died down,
the dogwood’s unclenched its frightened fists,
and the morning’s calling
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