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Elizabeth Acevedo Rob, my heart is a peeled clementine and I don't wince
anymore when you stick your thumb in the hollow middle,
pull apart. You don't even swallow these pieces
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,
Natalie Diaz In the Kashmir mountains,
my brother shot many men,
blew skulls from brown skins,
Naomi Ayala Two blocks away
where yellow cabs
zip by without stopping
Steven Cramer I hear the dinner plates gossip
Mom collected to a hundred.
My friends say get on board,
Shadab Zeest Hashmi Your august birth, my taking oath as an American, were only weeks apart.
The most I can remember is your rocking to a dull ache before we were apart.
Our hill was plush, the whole place soaked up the scent of raisin pulao.
Lisa L. Moore Word got out about the bad bill.
College students packed up their bikinis,
went back to Austin to tell those men why
Jericho Brown They said to say goodnight
And not goodbye, unplugged
The TV when it rained. They hid
Richard Blanco The Gulf Motel with mermaid lampposts
and ship's wheel in the lobby should still be
rising out of the sand like a cake decoration.
Patricia Monaghan Just past dawn in early fall,
a sparrow screamed at me
as I walked into the woods.