Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Nancy HuangI build a UFO. I paint it
sparkly purple like the best sex bruise
you ever got. I line
my foil aircraft with crystals
humming different vibrations.
I woo the shit out of this
engine battery. Rocket fuel and
hard rock swing.
By Caridad Moro-Gronlierif i should
take you
to that spot
by the water
you can’t pronounce
but love
By Aideed MedinaDe piedra, sangre.
I make my own heaven. I drag it out of the streets, and inhospitable terrains. I mixed "tabique", brick, mortar with my hands, kneading,
I need, to make my own heaven
By Leticia Hernández-LinaresTus pómulos, the historic shape of your
temporal bones imitating the pirámides we carry, beating
blueprints inside of our lungs, stencil the heart
with the angles of the architecture we were born in.
By Maricielo Ampudia GutiérrezWith each finger, I pressed on black ink, and one by one placed them on the transmitting screen. Following instruction, I rolled each finger, left to right, and slow—every quarter inch of skin recorded. On the display, perfect fingerprints glowing.
By Daria-Ann MartineauI find myself noticing you again
eight years later,
you coming out of the earth, pale,
erect, shadow over men.
You can’t be buried.
By Natalie WeeI was born in 1993, the year Regie Cabico became the first
Asian American to win the Nuyorican Poets Cafe Grand Slam.
By Shatha AlmutawaWhen they ask you
How many days were you away?
Don’t say two weeks
They want to know the exact number
Tell them 11 days
By Claudia Rojas(We) DMV centers will see and take less of us.
We
(are) We will not miss a day of work or school
By Azura TyabjiIf the meaning of the prayer was not passed down to you,
find it through holier means than translation.
Cling to the rhythm instead.