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Pages d. Matam ever seen the smile of a brown child
so loud it leaves Jericho shakin' in its overpriced boots
ever seen the smile of a brown child
so late the rest of the world still wanna catch up to its wind
Amina Iro This poem is in video format.
Lois Beardslee When I asked my mother
If she could remember
What her mother's mother called December
L. Lamar Wilson She ambles about this Mickey-Dee kitchen’s din,
unmoved by the hot grease threatening
her ¿puedo tomar su orden? mask.
Roger Reeves The moths in the orchard squeal
with each pass of the mistral wind.
Yet the reapers and their scythes,
out beyond the pear trees, slay wheat
Peter J. Harris Saturn's rings was all nappy
spread out from her head
like she just woke up
took a shower & aint dried them yet
Julie Enszer The painters call before we move into the new house. Ma’am, they say—
I am not old enough to be a ma’am, but I don’t correct them—
Ma’am, they say, we smell gas.
I dismiss their concern. I say, Keep painting.
Joshua Weiner Today is Sunday.
Today, for the first time, they let me go out into the sun.
And I stood there I didn't move,
struck for the first time, the very first time ever:
Kelli Stevens Kane blueberry blackberry as always
bleeding, back road or boulevard,
our boy crowned with baton,
Allison Adelle Hedge Coke In a room facing chimneys
over the place Nancy Morejón rests
between sleeps lining free lines
she whispers to hearing DC: