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Faylita Hicks

After the George Floyd Protests, My Strange Dream

By Faylita Hicks Crawling out from between the legs of a woman
with my name still wetly slathered across her chin,

I cradle the lewd silk of our venom
up against the hot swell of my caged chest, wade out

through her front door, into the murky billows
of the damned and the damnable,
Joshua Nguyen

American Lục Bát For the End of The World [At Long Last, At Least We Have Our Language?] ...

By Joshua Nguyen To begin, let us end
this sentence with no friends or en
emies. Just wrong destin
ations to sad desks in Am-
hurst.
Joselia Rebekah Hughes

All The Kids With Rhythm Bang on Metal Locker Doors At Lunchtime

By Joselia Rebekah Hughes Black able rack able
hack able tack able
lack able slack able
Tarik Dobbs

Skybridge Rendering Above Minneapolis & the West Bank

By Tarik Dobbs Chorus: Like a bridge over troubled water…
For years, settlers longingly, vertical, build over us, Starbucks has no sinks. Will we go? Lately, the bridge, their throne. When even these are somewhere to watch from, to drop a knee & propose somewhere to feel for a bank.
Angelique Palmer

God or a Lottery Ticket in a Black Woman’s Purse

By Angelique Palmer Trying to find faith
in a world that is slowly killing me and blaming me for why they can’t do it right

or why survival might be the only thing in the way of enjoying life
Julian Randall

Negrotopia #3 (Self Portrait as Heaven)

By Julian Randall Cue the Anthony Hamilton/and name me a mansion/tell everyone there is space here/if you
​ believe in the reincarnated/I am already somewhere/that somebody has gone/
Paul Tran

The Santa Ana

By Paul Tran Desert born. Wild
As corn. Dry
Bitch. Itchy clit.
Meteorologists
Measure me

With mercury;
Police with murder rates.
Joshua Jennifer Espinoza

This Is What Makes Us Worlds

By Joshua Jennifer Espinoza Like light but
in reverse we billow.
We turn a corner
and make the hills
Imani Davis

color theory

By Imani Davis a political statement walks into an art classroom. it could be the walls, or her bones, either way
some white structure will soon betray her with its crumbling.
Trace Howard DePass

Mike Brown is Eighteen

By Trace Howard DePass [And legal] now.
[Taking full advantage of the enough he is.
Might go sign up for the war.
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