Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Jonathan MendozaYou ask me for my name,
and I say, “It’s pronounced Mendoza,”
and again, the Spaniard spits it out my throat,
pats me on the tongue,
tells me I have been a good subject,
and again, I have traded this empire
for my former one.
By torrin a. greathouseThe body scanner says my name & my flesh are suspicious
abandoned baggage. A voice on the loudspeaker says to report
any & all unaccompanied luggage it could contain anything.
Clothes, or drugs, or a body folded economically. Utilitarian
origami. Voice on the speaker says trust no one, says anything
could be a threat.
By Britteney Black Rose Kapridon’t sister girl me or giiiiirl me or sis me or girlfriend me or hey bitch me. or any other slang you think me and other Black woman call ourselves when you’re not around.
By Bianca Lynne SpriggsWoman,
I get it.
We are strangers,
but I know the heart is a hive
and someone has knocked yours
from its high branch in your chest
By Monica RicoPast the breath that only stars have, I find myself
an open hand of night with pupils that eclipse the moon.
The blackness underneath my feet, not above where the sky is filled with sea.
My eyelash covers the arm of the galaxy with one word that means, here.
By beyza ozerthis is not terrorism
this is toxic masculinity
made in the USA
when my mother hears
about orlando
she doesn't look at me
By Paul TranDesert born. Wild
As corn. Dry
Bitch. Itchy clit.
Meteorologists
Measure me
With mercury;
Police with murder rates.
By Heather Derr-SmithOne man said there are hundreds
of delicate articulated bones
in the human head. So don’t let it
get punched. Easier said than done.
