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Kim Roberts

The International Fruit of Welcome

By Kim Roberts Kim Roberts performs the poem "The International Fruit of Welcome" at the 2012 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
Kim Roberts

PROTANDRIC

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

but there’s no licking.
There’s no touching.
Julie Enszer

Zyklon B

By Julie Enszer The painters call before we move into the new house. Ma’am, they say—

I am not old enough to be a ma’am, but I don’t correct them—
Ma’am, they say, we smell gas.

I dismiss their concern. I say, Keep painting.

Kendra DeColo

The Strap-on Speaks

By Kendra DeColo It is easy to believe
we are separate entities,
you and I

as I wait, a fish in the chasm
Rachel Simon

Postmark from the Transition

By Rachel M. Simon the name altered from parent's choosing
the threshold of a home
white gloves on the windowsill
Kim Roberts

Portrait of Hippocrates, or Buqrat

By Kim Roberts O augury seeker,
know and be aware...
In the book of divination,
Judith Arcana

Can Safety Matches Make Us Safe?

By Judith Arcana You read the tiny cardboard book before
you scratch the strip under Augie's New Pizza
on the back of MIA:We still don't know
Jane Seitel

Suspension of Disbelief

By Jane Seitel I wake into yet another day of doubt
creeping in as ants through a warped doorjamb.
The morning news brings new atrocities
Margit Berman

The Day Obama Decided

By Margit Berman The day Obama decided enough was enough
and turned off his TV and slept well for the first time since 2007,
and Nancy Pelosi decided enough was enough
Kim Roberts

IUDs

By Kim Roberts Wheels, whisks, wishbones,
silhouette of a tiny pine.
Birds in flight and fiddlehead ferns.
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