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Jacob Rakovan

Hilt’s Law

By Jacob Rakovan The bones cast in the field like seed corn grow nothing,
grow briars in the boarded gas stations
brown stalks ready for the fire.
Gowri Koneswaran

Hold

By Gowri Koneswaran we're taught to hold hands
when we cross the street
or walk with our mothers in parking lots or
Brian Fanelli

Political Soundtrack

By Brian Fanelli Every Sunday, I came dressed in punk rocker black,
checkered pants, steel-toed Docs.
No tie dye on me when I joined
Margaret Rozga

Prayer at Plymouth Church

By Margaret Rozga Let there be drums and harps,
piccolos and flutes, violins,
banjos and guitars.
Merna Hecht

Special Effects

By Merna Hecht This morning I am remembering you, how as honored guest
you talked with my students who had recently arrived in America
from refugee camps where borders are stacked with blood and bullets.
Jonathan B. Tucker

The Sign

By Jonathan B. Tucker pardon our appearance
as we grow to better serve you
says the sign on the fence
Solmaz Sharif

Mess Hall

By Solmaz Sharif Your knives tip down
in the dish rack
of the replica plantation home
Zein El-Amine

How to write a poem, according to Souha Bechara

By Zein El-Amine Sit in their circle.
Don't let your eyes linger
on any object in the room.
Cathy Linh Che

Split

By Cathy Lihn Che I see my mother at thirteen
in a village so small,
it's never given a name.
DaMaris B. Hill

Stewing

By DaMaris B. Hill I dream of hounds. Their teeth loose in my veins.
Their howls consume me. They growl and feast.
She whispers not to run. I can't refrain.
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