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By Tara Hardy
They call it dissociation.
I call it THE NINE (children)
who live inside me.
Each of them encased
in amber, frozen in a mosquito-pose
By Doritt Carroll
the first time it happened
i thought i was being strangled
four fingers compressing each side of my throat
By Cynthia Guardado
A black woman stands with two toddlers hanging off her hips.
Her balance is perfect as she pushes her luggage with one leg,
the boys curl into her shoulders unaware of how
they all slide forward. I offer her my help. Her face is serious
By Karenne Wood
1. A white poet whose work I admire said she feels most inspired on her daily four-mile walk through a forest.
2. I wish I had time to walk four miles daily. I can usually manage one mile with dogs. My dogs are distractible, and they distract me.
By Joseph Green
The last time I saw you alive
I wish I would’ve talked ugly to you.
Said, “Put the straw down. No,
I don’t want to take another line,
I should be writing them.
By Cameron Awkward-Rich
is what your father calls you now. Yes, you know
your father loves you
but each time he will not name you
you feel a hole
By Gwen Nell Westerman
Our elders say
the universe is a
By Tanya Paperny
click on a live stream
of a memorial event
to commemorate victims
of Soviet terror
By Mai Der Vang
Concerning our hollow breasts,
Lice factions multiplying in our hair.
Concerning our unused stomachs,
Molars waiting to chew, taste buds
By Tatiana Figueroa Ramirez
I wake up to the alarm clocks
of cocks & gallinas struggling
for their corner of the callejón.
on the preheated concrete.