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By Everett Hoagland
Architect of icebergs, snowflakes,
crystals, rainbows, sand grains, dust motes, atoms.
Mason whose tools are glaciers, rain, rivers, ocean.
Chemist who made blood
By Paul Tran
Desert born. Wild
As corn. Dry
Bitch. Itchy clit.
Police with murder rates.
By Sonia Sanchez
There are women sailing the sky
I walk between them
They who wear silk, muslin and burlap skins touching mine
They who dance between urine and violets
By Camisha Jones
What you know bout ballin'
your every fiber into a tight fist,
letting the naps of history
that birthed you unfurl
By Zahara Heckscher
This is a love song
to the invisible waves
that travel through the air
finding the antenna
By JP Howard
black women we be trying to hold worlds
on our backs, in our hearts without fail
some days we fail at perfection
By Tara Betts
I am sitting in a café with my boy
that I have known longer than my
students have been alive, before the birth
By Kaveh Akbar
Some days we can see Venus in mid-afternoon. Then at night, stars
separated by billions of miles, light travelling years
to die in the back of an eye.
By Aracelis Girmay
You, selling roses out of a silver grocery cart
You, in the park, feeding the pigeons
You cheering for the bees
You with cats in your voice in the morning, feeding cats
By Kathy Engel
Praise the words and what
defies words, the mamas and
fathers, all the beloveds