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Fred Joiner


By Fred Joiner a pocket can sometimes be
a kind of prison,

I have never lived in
Julie Enszer

The Pinko Commie Dyke Returns

By Julie Enszer to the place where the idea
of being a pinko commie dyke
first entered her mind,
Pat Parker (d.)

love isn’t

By Pat Parker (d.) I wish I could be
the lover you want
come joyful
bear brightness
Kaveh Akbar

Do You Speak Persian?

By Kaveh Akbar Some days we can see Venus in mid-afternoon. Then at night, stars
separated by billions of miles, light travelling years
to die in the back of an eye.
Regie Cabico

Daylight Savings Time Flies

By Regie Cabico
Sarah Sansolo

Aunty Mary and Her “Friend” Ruth, 1910

By Sarah Sansolo You wear the faded muslin—
did it begin yours or mine?
Everything we have is both.
Everything we are is both,
Gowri Koneswaran

How To Enjoy Your Vacation To A Country That Says It Won The War

By Gowri Koneswaran ★ While planning your journey, accept that ethics are not included in the price of your ticket;
★ Tell yourself your currency is helping the country;
★ Do not question government control of the tourism industry;
Luis Alberto Ambroggio


By Luis Alberto Ambroggio Poetry might never have seen
that categorical word,
but in its charged belligerence
of emotions and in its profound determination,
Clint Smith

There Is a Lake Here

By Clint Smith There is a lake here.
A lake the size of
outstretched arms. And no,
not the type of arms raised
Holly Karapetkova

Song of the Exiles

By Holly Karapetkova There never was a garden
only a leaving:
miles and miles
of footprints in the dirt.
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