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Lip Manegio

the day i died, my therapist asked how my week was going & i told him i am reading stone butch blues

By Lip Manegio the trees were dying again. i had been spending
more time on the porch than usual, letting
the early november freeze get the better
Janlori Goldman

Ode to Jacob Blinder

By Janlori Goldman His face stared out into the living room
of my grandparents’ walk-up on E. 13th.
After they died my father hung him
Tamiko Beyer

Equinox

By Tamiko Beyer Dear child of the near future,
here is what I know—hawks

soar on the updraft and sparrows always
return to the seed source until they spot
Peggy Robles-Alvarado

Pantoum For The Gyn That Asks If I Really Want More Children

By Peggy Robles-Alvarado She insists three kids are more than enough
Puerto Rican Tías are missing wombs
Tells me I’m still young, more than “just a mom”
George Abraham

Ode to Mennel Ibtissam singing “Hallelujah” on The Voice (France), translated in Arabic

By George Abraham maybe if , ash & smolder way the – tongue own my in never but song this heard i've
– it birthed who fire the not & gospel become can , mouth right the in seen
Carmin Wong

The Proper Way to Prepare the U.S. Flag

By Carmin Wong Start with something simple: 13 loosely lingering light-hearted lines that eventually morph / into crowbars ★ corps ★ prison cells ★ bylines.
Cyrée Jarelle Johnson

chewbacca was the blackest part of “The Force Awakens”

By Cyrée Jarelle Johnson Black excitement is danger. We have seen the other side of optimism for so long. Feels like fiction. Put your feet up on that dashboard because here comes the F U T U R E! Wow! Chewbacca was the blackest part of "The Force Awakens."
Noor Ibn Najam

يقبرني to bury me. you take your turn first

By Noor Ibn Najam to become earth’s sugar, to be a seedless
orange offered. to want fruit
to unwind from the concept of sex
Maren Lovey Wright-Kerr

darkskin

By Maren Lovey Wright-Kerr when the makeup aisle stops at “caramel”

it means
the makeup industry just thinks you already too pretty to need they products
Mahogany L. Browne

Do not make Grief your God

By Mahogany L. Browne Instead
Make it a cup of coffee
The espresso percolator wheezing on
The biggest eye
On the stove
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