Skip to Content
Search Results
Regie Cabico

Daylight Savings Time Flies

By Regie Cabico Regie Cabico performs the poem "Daylight Savings Time Flies Like an Instagram of a Weasel Riding a Woodpecker and You Feel Everything Will Be Alright" at the 2016 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
Craig Santos Perez

Spam’s Carbon Footprint

By Craig Santos Perez Craig Santos Perez performs the poem "Spam's Carbon Footprint" at the 2016 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
Gowri Koneswaran

How To Enjoy Your Vacation To A Country That Says It Won The War

By Gowri Koneswaran ★ While planning your journey, accept that ethics are not included in the price of your ticket;
★ Tell yourself your currency is helping the country;
★ Do not question government control of the tourism industry;
Jee Leong Koh

Attribution

By Jee Leong Koh My grandfather said life was better under the British.
He was a man who begrudged his words but he did say this.

I was born after the British left
an alphabet in my house, the same book they left in school.
Marci Calabretta Cancio-Bello

Above the Thin Shell of the World

By Marci Calabretta Cancio-Bello I fell in love with a North Korean
by falling asleep on his shoulder
in a South Korean subway.
Patrick Rosal

Violets

By Patrick Rosal A brisk sunset walk home: Lafayette Ave.
After weeks straight of triple layers
and double gloves, the day has inched
Sunu P. Chandy

Too Pretty

By Sunu P. Chandy October on the subway, roses at my side
kids being loud. One skinny girl
with a cap and a pretty smile
gets up to give me her seat
Regie Cabico

Teaching Gender Segregated Sex Writing Class

By Regie Cabico I get to edit penis poems and feel like Michelangelo
Making masterpieces of what is private and unsculpted
Beneath the writing table
All I have to say is My penis is…
Fatimah Asghar

america

By Fatimah Asghar am I not your baby?
brown & not allowed

my own language?
my teeth pulled
Craig Santos Perez

Twinkle, Twinkle, Morning Star

By Craig Santos Perez kaikainaliʻi wakes from her late afternoon nap
and reaches for nālani with small open hands—

count how many papuan children
still reach for their disappeared parents—
Page 4 of 7 pages