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Kelli Stevens Kane

bitter crop

By Kelli Stevens Kane blueberry blackberry as always
bleeding, back road or boulevard,
our boy crowned with baton,
Karen Skolfield

Art Project: Earth

By Karen Skolfield Balloon, then papier mâché.
Gray paint, blue and turquoise, green,
a clouded world with fishing line attached
Allison Adelle Hedge Coke

First Morning Poem

By Allison Adelle Hedge Coke In a room facing chimneys
over the place Nancy Morejón rests
between sleeps lining free lines
she whispers to hearing DC:
Abdul Ali

Amistad

By Abdul Ali My father and I run into each other at the edge of Lower Manhattan,
World Trade Center, where there’s a movie house.

We tiptoe down the slope, making our way to our seats.
Joseph O. Legaspi

Amphibians

By Joseph O. Legaspi Amphibians live in both.

Immigrants leave their land,
hardening in the sea.

Out of water.
Chen Chen

Set the Garden on Fire

By Chen Chen My friend’s new neighbors in the suburbs
are planting a neat row of roses
between her house & theirs.
Ross Gay

To the Fig Tree on 9th and Christian

By Ross Gay Tumbling through the
city in my
mind without once
looking up
Linda Hogan

Song for the Turtles in the Gulf

By Linda Hogan We had been together so very long,
you willing to swim with me
just last month, myself merely small
Ruth Irupé Sanabria

Hija

By Ruth Irupé Sanabria I am the daughter of doves
That disappeared into dust
Hear my pulse whisper:

Bulletproof

By Sue D. Burton Today it’s Hopkins and his obscure spiritual contraptions –
everything I read is heart-corseted, like a concealable vest,
police surplus good as new. Some fanatic is packing a gun.
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