The Such Thing As the Ridiculous Question –
By Siaara FreemanWhen I say ancestors, let’s be clear:
I mean slaves. I’m talkin’ Tennessee
cotton & Louisiana suga. I mean grave dirt.
Search Results
For My Cousin Manny Who Died in Prison
By Cintia Santanainside
a cell
a heart
(my cousin’s)
inside
his heart
(inside
a cell)
a cluster
of cells
arrested
Patients
By Aurora Levins MoralesWhy do they call us "the patient"
We are not patient. We endure.
All The Kids With Rhythm Bang on Metal Locker Doors At Lunchtime
By Joselia Rebekah HughesBlack able rack able
hack able tack able
lack able slack able
On the Subway for the First Time
By Liv MammoneThe train is a creature that moves like water.
It has no eyes, only a sharp
mouth that closes on those too slow.
PONDEROSA PINE
By Liza SparksWhen a ponderosa pine
is over one hundred—
it sheds a layer of bark.
To be a mother in this economy
By Erin HooverMy child babies a squeeze bottle of craft glue
or a lipstick tube filched from my purse.
She yanks a tissue from our coffee table
Against Forgiveness
By Zefyr LisowskiWas not a monster— (His hands were soft)
Was not an abnormality— Was not just
“being a boy”— Had no reputation—
Bone Tumor
By Leigh SugarI knew it was something bodies could do, disobey –
a girl a grade above had died that fall
of the cancer I was being tested for in winter,
Stone
By Aideed MedinaDe piedra, sangre.
I make my own heaven. I drag it out of the streets, and inhospitable terrains. I mixed "tabique", brick, mortar with my hands, kneading,
I need, to make my own heaven