barreras
By María Luisa ArroyoMami called us away from the roach trap line
where novice factory workers, fresh from the island,
and I, fresh from Germany, poked
Search Results
Mess Hall
By Solmaz SharifYour knives tip down
in the dish rack
of the replica plantation home
Split
By Cathy Linh CheI see my mother at thirteen
in a village so small,
it's never given a name.
Loss is an art, traversing one world to the next
By Purvi ShahThe mehndi is leaving my hands,
brown swirls dissolving into brown skin.
Somewhere you are traveling
In a Summer of Snipers
By Joseph RossIn a summer of snipers
some men raised their hands
with fingers pressed
14 haiku
By Sonia SanchezYour limbs buried
in northern muscle carry
their own heartbeat