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On a Playground in Park Slope, Brooklyn a Retired Neurologist from Beijing is Cursing

By Wang Ping

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Tsunami Chant

By Wang Ping I'm not a singer, but please
let me sing of the peacemakers
on the streets and internet, your candles

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Solstice in Lhasa

By Wang Ping What more can you say
Nomad daughter of glaciers?
City has bleached the sun from your face

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poem of the week

Linear Process

by: Gwen Nell Westerman

Our elders say / the universe is a / circle. / Everything / returns to its / beginnings. / But where do we go / from here? / Where are / our beginnings?

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Sexton Nights

by: Majda Gama

I wanted to be Her Kind, to go out a hennaed hand-
maiden, sneak across the rooftops of Jeddah dome-by-dome,
until I reached the coastline of the eternal bride.

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January 20, 2017

by: Anthony Moll

I couldn’t think of a better way to describe America / torch in one hand, scrolling through her smart phone with the other // Sauced on nostalgia, someone told me Columbia used to look / prettier—but ain’t beauty an idol too imprecise to adore?

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philosophically immune

by: Evie Shockley

...is the nature of the relationship of american and multinational pharmaceutical corporations to african women with hiv economic or human? ~ economic or humane?...

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Invocation

by: Everett Hoagland

...Whatever

You are, I know this,
Spinner, You are everywhere, in All The Ever-
Changing Above, whirling around us.

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