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By Zohra Saed
Behave or the sleeping Alexander will reclaim your lungs.
Was once a cube of sugar
By Purvi Shah
The mehndi is leaving my hands,
brown swirls dissolving into brown skin.
Somewhere you are traveling
By Carlos Andrés Gómez
This poem is in video format.
By Kathleen O'Toole
He arrived first as a student of geology
in the bicentennial year.
By Melanie Graham
She appears again, 2-year-old riding her hip,
grief so great he can see through her birkha, past Qualaday,
into the kitchen, his mother nurturing chicken
in popping grease.
By Lisa Suhair Majaj
If they ask you what you are,
say Arab. If they flinch, don't react,
just remember your great-aunt's eyes.
By Reginald Harris
walk long enough
with a pebble in your shoe
and walking with a pebble becomes
By Yvette Neisser Moreno
So this is how they decided to take him—
at the end of his life,
his frame shrunken, his wild rambling days over
By Tiffany Higgins
I shall build a city upon a hill
and upon a hill and upon a hill and upon a hill
I am a little shepherd piping low
By Jaime Lee Jarvis
Was it the rush of words in that language
we understood only when we cocked our heads,
speaking on the slant, slurring our way