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Eduardo Corral

All the Trees of the Field Shall Clap Their Hands

By Eduardo C. Corral Are the knees & elbows
the first knots
the dead untie?
Claudia Rankine

from Don’t Let Me Be Lonely

By 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

Nexus

By Brenda Cárdenas This body always compost--
hair a plot of thin green stems
snowing a shroud of petals,
Tess Taylor

Eighteenth Century Remains

By 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

Single Twin Band Crush

By 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

The 8th of May: A Vow

By 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

By Yusef Komunyakaa Thanks for the tree
between me & a sniper's bullet.
I don't know what made the grass
Myra Sklarew

Infinite Regress of War

By Myra Sklarew In the mirror of infinite regress
go back. Go back to Vietnam. To a man
who can spot a trip wire fine as a hair,
Tim Seibles

Zombie Blues Villanelle

By Tim Seibles There are days I believe there ain' nothing to fear
I perk up for green lights, my engine on call
But it could be the zombies are already near
Eduardo Corral

Cayucos

By Eduardo C. Corral A girl asleep beneath a fishing net
Sandals the color of tangerines
Off the coast of Morocco
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