The American middle class ...
By Dawn Lundy MartinThe American middle class is screwed again but they don’t know it.
Politics is a gleaming nowhere. Žižek fantasizes about Capitalism’s
inevitable end.
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ode to the puritan in me
By Ross GayThere is a puritan in me
the brim of whose
hat is so sharp
it could cut
your tongue out
How Hard Is It to Write a Love Song?
By Sholeh WolpéLast night a sparrow flew into my house,
crashed against the skylight and died:
I want to write a love song.
The Iraqi Nights, Section 7
By Dunya MikhailIn Iraq,
after a thousand and one nights,
someone will talk to someone else.
Markets will open
for regular customers.
Baghdad Before the Occupation
By Amal Al-Jubouri—My solitude, to which I always returned
City that kept my secret religion in her libraries
I came back to rest my head on her shoulder
and with just one look, she saw how tired I was
Leaving My Childhood Home
By Zeina AzzamOn our last day in Beirut
with my ten years packed in a suitcase,
my best friend asked for a keepsake.
I found a little tin box
Bandits
By Hala AlyanYou were mama’s; first and only boy, sable eyelashes long as an ostrich. Operatic, I claimed baba, his books and his sulk, first of the unrequited loves. What we took we took unasked.
WITNESS
By Ariana Brownyou said you held a gun first / then a girl / & both begged for mercy / & you are afraid / of your own
body / of the hands that are their own haunting / the coal / bursting through / your glowing skin / black
Angelitos Negros
By Darrel Alejandro HolnesIn the film, both parents are Mexicans as white as
a Gitano’s bolero sung by an indigena accompanied by the Moor’s guitar
bleached by this American continent’s celluloid in 1948
when in America the world’s colors were polarized into black & blanco.
Self Portrait with NeoNazi Demonstration
By Lauren K. AlleyneJust like that the day is black
and blue, bruised with hate.
Just like that my skin, black
as fine leather stretches so tight