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By Meg Eden
I look for a man's hand inside
the folds of my purse, and find
a pattern that recalls a finger print, the way
By Joseph Ross
In a summer of snipers
some men raised their hands
with fingers pressed
By Venus Thrash
I am wearing a white tux with tails,
or a baby blue one with a ruffly shirt,
or decked out in classic black, or coolly
By Jose Padua
All the out of business auto body shops
on this slow highway, all the abandoned
buildings with peeling paint, the vacant
By Kim Roberts
O augury seeker,
know and be aware...
In the book of divination,
By Kathleen Hellen
I sit in the front row of
bleachers -- cheap seats for greater grief.
By Kathleen O'Toole
He arrived first as a student of geology
in the bicentennial year.
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.
By Vanessa Huang
May you rest
By Kim Jensen
You know the economy's bad
when people are lined up around the block
to apply for the job
of the wicked witch.