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Pablo Miguel Martinez the math of dance
the math of breath
counting 4 / 4
Venus Thrash Deep in the heart of the Garden of Eden,
past the Euphrates & Tigris riverbanks,
the marsh grass, reed beds, bulrushes,
Joy Harjo This city is made of stone, of blood, and fish.
There are Chugatch Mountains to the east
and whale and seal to the west.
Eduardo C. Corral Are the knees & elbows
the first knots
the dead untie?
Claudia Rankine Mahalia Jackson is a genius. Or Mahalia Jackson has genius. The man I am with is trying to make a distinction. I am uncomfortable with his need to make this distinction because his inquiry begins to approach subtle shades of racism, classism, or sexism. It is hard to know which.
Brenda Cárdenas This body always compost--
hair a plot of thin green stems
snowing a shroud of petals,
Tess Taylor The ridge a half mile down from Monticello.
A pit cut deeper than the plow line.
Archaeologists plot the dig by scanning
celeste doaks Aaron and Anita, the first real twins I ever personally knew,
drum majored our ragged band in high school called--
the Marching LaSalle Lions. Anita was the outgoing,
Daniel Nathan Terry There are oaks that remember
what we would forget--the burn of the rope,
how a body takes on more weight
Yusef Komunyakaa Thanks for the tree
between me & a sniper's bullet.
I don't know what made the grass