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Ars Poetica

By Kevin Simmonds I can write a poem
to the limbs of a grandmother
seeded in a scorched field
where her house stood
Beth Copeland

Cerberus

By Beth Copeland What do the howling hounds hear that we can't?
The moon sharpens its sword on the Earth's stone.
Palm trees on the shores of the Tigris stand sentinel,
Zein El-Amine

How to write a poem, according to Souha Bechara

By Zein El-Amine Sit in their circle.
Don't let your eyes linger
on any object in the room.

a sentence

By Kevin Simmonds needs
at least one subject
and one verb
Ching-In Chen

American Syntax

By Ching-In Chen The teacher straightbacked,
faced me off, her eyes.
My face in the cleave of
her shoulder, my bones
Heather Davis

29 Men

By Heather Davis The lights in your home channel 29 men, their
soot stained clothes, last breaths, crystalline sweat
let loose on black rock
Lori Desrosiers

That Pomegranate Shine

By Lori Desrosiers I was the wrong kind of bride,
more sweat than glisten,
more peach than pomegranate.
Francisco Aragón

Torso

By Francisco Aragón Despite the absent head (whose eyes

were the green of apples)
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