THE NINE
By Tara HardyThey call it dissociation.
I call it THE NINE (children)
who live inside me.
Each of them encased
in amber, frozen in a mosquito-pose
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The Santa Ana
By Paul TranDesert born. Wild
As corn. Dry
Bitch. Itchy clit.
Meteorologists
Measure me
With mercury;
Police with murder rates.
This Is What Makes Us Worlds
By Joshua Jennifer EspinozaLike light but
in reverse we billow.
We turn a corner
and make the hills
color theory
By Imani Davisa political statement walks into an art classroom. it could be the walls, or her bones, either way
some white structure will soon betray her with its crumbling.
THE AESTHETICS OF SUFFERING
By Christopher SotoI’m his // retired slut // on food stamps // forever
Sniffing horse tranquilizer // seeing digital dreams
Like a kitten // with eyes sewn shut // like syzygy
my mother watches her mother’s funeral footage again
By Wo ChanShe closed the doors
and then the blinds
and then her face, midday.
Our Movable Mecca
By Danez Smithwe who were born into conundrum, came into the world as the world was leaving, children
of the ozone, the oppressed, the overlooked, of obtuse greed, of oil overlords, of oblong
definitions of justice
‘I am broken by the revolt exploding inside me’
By Minal HajratwalaYour rage is pomegranates spilling open on ice, is the flute’s thin silver seam, is a volcano spitting rivulets of fire to wash clean these corrupt lands.
The Kindness
By Jan BeattyJan Beatty performs the poem "The Kindness" at the 2016 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.