That Map of Bone and Opened Valves
By Ilya KaminskyI watched a sergeant aim, the deaf boy take iron and fire in his mouth—
his face on the asphalt,
that map of bone and opened valves.
It’s the air. Something in the air wants us too much
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Aaaayeee Babo (Praise God)
By Sonia SanchezThere are women sailing the sky
I walk between them
They who wear silk, muslin and burlap skins touching mine
They who dance between urine and violets
Witnesses
By Ellen BassToday is gray, drizzling,
but not enough for drops to pool
on the tips of the silver needles
or soak the bark of the pines at Ponary—
POLITICS OF AN ELEGY
By Hieu Minh NguyenIf things happen
the way they are supposed to
my mother will die before me.
Requiem
By Melissa TuckeyUnable to sleep,
the blankets wrapped in waves, waves
as tall as dreams,
the dream world trying to make sense
In This Place (An American Lyric)
By Amanda GormanThere’s a poem in this place—
in the footfalls in the halls
in the quiet beat of the seats.
It is here, at the curtain of day,
My Hair Starts the Revolution
By Camisha JonesWhat you know bout ballin'
your every fiber into a tight fist,
letting the naps of history
that birthed you unfurl
Harriet Tubman is a Lesbian
By Saida Agostinijabari says fuck that, harriet wasn’t trying turn the underground into henrietta’s. but shit, I want a hero, a full on black queer woman
Saraswati praises your name even when you have no choice
By Purvi ShahYou had a name no one
could hold between their
teeth. So they pronounced