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Aracelis Girmay

Break

By Aracelis Girmay When the boys are carnivals
we gather round them in the dark room
& they make their noise while drums
ricochet against their bodies & thin air
Kim Roberts

PROTANDRIC

By Kim Roberts Oysters may look to us
like wet floppy tongues,

but there’s no licking.
There’s no touching.
Oliver de la Paz

Diaspora 2

By Oliver de la Paz The way is written in the dark:

it has steel in it, something metallic, a gun,

a mallet, a piece of machinery--

something cold like the sea, something,
Roger Reeves

Self-Portrait as Vincent Van Gogh in the Asylum at Arles

By Roger Reeves The moths in the orchard squeal
with each pass of the mistral wind.
Yet the reapers and their scythes,
out beyond the pear trees, slay wheat
Peter J. Harris

Don’t Even Pretend (The Saturn Poem)

By Peter J. Harris Saturn's rings was all nappy
spread out from her head
like she just woke up
took a shower & aint dried them yet
Joshua Weiner

Hikmet: Çankiri Prison, 1938

By Joshua Weiner Today is Sunday.
Today, for the first time, they let me go out into the sun.
And I stood there I didn't move,
struck for the first time, the very first time ever:
Craig Santos Perez

From “understory”

By Craig Santos Perez kai cries
from teething--

how do
new parents
Allison Adelle Hedge Coke

First Morning Poem

By Allison Adelle Hedge Coke In a room facing chimneys
over the place Nancy Morejón rests
between sleeps lining free lines
she whispers to hearing DC:
Elizabeth Hoover

Làt-Kat

By Elizabeth Hoover Ñuul, the teacher says and smacks his knee to show
where the stress falls. Ñuul, the children repeat each
starting at a different time so they sing a sour chord.
Leona Sevick

White

By 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
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