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Saretta Morgan

One Scenario

By Saretta Morgan More than a decade after being sentenced I share the news with my mom.
Rio Cortez

Partum

By Rio Cortez Just as close to living as you are to disappearing knowing
my limits you locate the tender spots without.
Travis Chi Wing Lau

Pithy

By Travis Chi Wing Lau I shrug off my messenger onto the floor and forget to kiss you when I walk through the door.
Jessica (Tyner) Mehta

The Seeds for Distinction*

By Jessica (Tyner) Mehta Conductor drives us, the cow-
catcher barreling straight into the teeth
of Memory’s harshest winter.
Tobias Wray

Music Arises from Component Parts or The Dream of a Clarinet

By Tobias Wray Once done,
my father pulled
the instrument apart.
Kimberly Blaeser

The Where in My Belly

By Kimberly Blaeser Scientists say my brain and heart
are 73 percent water—
they underestimate me.
Tamiko Beyer

Equinox

By Tamiko Beyer Dear child of the near future,
here is what I know—hawks

soar on the updraft and sparrows always
return to the seed source until they spot
I.S. Jones

SELF-PORTRAIT OF THE BLK GIRL BECOMING THE BEAST EVERYONE THOUGHT SHE WAS

By I.S. Jones the moon is my first emotion then beast then happy rage
depending on a zealous appetite

i pull bobby pins from the kitchen of my scalp tear out nails
Carlos Andrés Gómez

Ghosts of Abolition

By Carlos Andrés Gómez whisper through tear gas—
remind of the original
patrols, ruddy-cheeked
Rosemary Ferreira

This is the city that I love

By Rosemary Ferreira Habichuelas bubbling on the stovetop. The kitchen door opens to our backyard. My father cuts out a piece of the campo and plants it here in Brooklyn. There are neighbors who knock on the door with a broom to let us know they’re selling pasteles. The train rumbles into a screech in the background, “This is Gates Avenue, the next stop is...”
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