In Memory of Kamau Brathwaite
By Safia Elhilloi sat by the lake & ate five tiny oranges & every strand
of flesh & pith was my teacher
i grew warm & soft in the sun & from this ripening
made a poem to search for my teacher
Search Results
What To Expect When Traveling with Your Arab Wife
By Shatha AlmutawaWhen they ask you
How many days were you away?
Don’t say two weeks
They want to know the exact number
Tell them 11 days
Residence
By Claudia Rojas(We) DMV centers will see and take less of us.
We
(are) We will not miss a day of work or school
Diaspora
By Azura TyabjiIf the meaning of the prayer was not passed down to you,
find it through holier means than translation.
Cling to the rhythm instead.
darkskin
By Maren Lovey Wright-Kerrwhen the makeup aisle stops at “caramel”
it means
the makeup industry just thinks you already too pretty to need they products
A Water Poem for Remembering
By Kimberly BlaeserYes, it’s true I speak ill of the living
in coded ways divorced from the dead.
Why Lyla June fasts on capitol steps.
Do not make Grief your God
By Mahogany L. BrowneInstead
Make it a cup of coffee
The espresso percolator wheezing on
The biggest eye
On the stove
from GIRLS THAT NEVER DIE
By Safia Elhilloi was invented by them the women
steamed & sweating in the kitchen
soft bellies a memory of money
fallen princesses headdressed in rollers
it wouldn’t take much
By Eve L. EwingThis poem is in PNG format accompanied by an image description of the text.
i grew up with god in my mouth
By Mejdulene B. Shomalikept the name between gum & tooth
rolled it around like hard candy
cracked the shell of faith like sunflower seeds
spit out doubt & swallowed the sun