Graveyard Picnic
By Ina Cariñomemory of magnolia on lapels. grandfather’s paper
cheeks pale, teeth whiter than frosted hibiscus.
when I visit the mausoleum, I lay a white cloth on his tomb,
mesh of cobwebs stretched across the buds
Search Results
EVERY DAY IS A CHANCE TO REVOLT
By GoldenEyes open: I see every planet ————————–[pregnant]
with [pedestrians] –—————in their—————–[rivers]
& I wonder if this is the ————————————[Matrix]
reloaded in my [brain] ————the———————[agents]
telling me red is ———————————————[ripe]
[nectar] ——————for tomorrow’s——————[burial]
After the George Floyd Protests, My Strange Dream
By Faylita HicksCrawling 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,
gxrl gospel ii: when thrown against a sharp white background
By Aurielle MarieI always feel Black, y’ know? | I close my eyes at night & the tar behind them lids | ain’t nearly as dark as me | I wake to a thousand white daggers
The B-Sides of the Golden Records, Track Two: “Sounds of Human Labor”
By Sumita ChakrabortyWe may try to change the shape of your body, or the color of your skin,
or the kinds of sounds that your mouths make, to match how we think you should.
spell for reclaiming the moment
By adrienne maree browneven now
we could be happy
even now
breathing in
filling our bodies with right now
Patients
By Aurora Levins MoralesWhy do they call us "the patient"
We are not patient. We endure.
Education (excerpt from “Look at This Blue”)
By Allison Adelle Hedge CokeYour arm was twisted, bone exposed
face past point of wet stained,
fledgling fell there
All The Kids With Rhythm Bang on Metal Locker Doors At Lunchtime
By Joselia Rebekah HughesBlack able rack able
hack able tack able
lack able slack able