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Martha Collins stock strain family line
breed blood skin shape
of the head of the pack
Ellen McGrath Smith I wanted bad to advance to Washington, D. C.
I wanted to be anyone but me.
The nun who had trained me for the spelling bee
needed a ride, and I was so worried all the way across town
Sara Brickman Owosso, Michigan is cinder blocks
stacked on top of potato cellars and steamrolled
grey. There’s a lot of corn,
Gretchen Primack and there was a dog, precisely the colors of autumn,
asleep between two trunks by the trail.
But it was a coyote, paws pink
Gretchen Primack This is the press of the earth. One star hanging
there, honking like a goose. The lake
a smudge of black juice, the hill a draped
Samiya Bashir Brother I don't either understand this
skipscrapple world that is--these
slick bubble cars zip feverish down
Camille T. Dungy The poet's hands degenerate until her cup is too heavy.
You are not required to understand.
This is not the year for understanding.
Camille T. Dungy Pause here at the flower stand-mums
and gladiolas, purple carnations
dark as my heart.
Lori Desrosiers I was the wrong kind of bride,
more sweat than glisten,
more peach than pomegranate.
Martha Collins not as in pin, the kind that keeps the wheels
turning, and not the strip of land that marks
the border between two fields. unrelated