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Marci Calabretta Cancio-Bello I fell in love with a North Korean
by falling asleep on his shoulder
in a South Korean subway.
Rasheed Copeland We learned
from the book
of our fathers’ silence
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
Martha Collins stock strain family line
breed blood skin shape
of the head of the pack
Marilyn Nelson Marilyn Nelson performs the poem "Millie Christine" at the 2012 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
L. Lamar Wilson She ambles about this Mickey-Dee kitchen’s din,
unmoved by the hot grease threatening
her ¿puedo tomar su orden? mask.
Bettina Judd Lucy didn’t scream like most. Though sometimes she
would moan--deep, long and overdue. I’d wake
thinking death. It’s her, knees curled under, head face
down, her body trying to move out of itself. Anarcha
Leona Sevick Instead, I spotted our mother in a tiny
chair in the back row, her blue-black head
shining unnaturally. She was dressed in
David-Matthew Barnes I remember the rhythm at night:
Your hips wanting mine,
to grind our street-smart
Susan Scheid There we stood, dressed like Egyptians
or what we thought Egyptians should look like
from all our National Geographic magazines.