azul / lejos
By Pablo Miguel Martinezthe math of dance
the math of breath
counting 4 / 4
Search Results
from Don’t Let Me Be Lonely
By Claudia RankineMahalia Jackson is a genius. Or Mahalia Jackson has genius. The man I am with is trying to make a distinction. I am uncomfortable with his need to make this distinction because his inquiry begins to approach subtle shades of racism, classism, or sexism. It is hard to know which.
from Manatee/Humanity
By Anne Waldmanthe aquarium deserted now,
this is the song at dusk I write in the notebook:
strange skin
Tsunami Chant
By Wang PingI'm not a singer, but please
let me sing of the peacemakers
on the streets and internet, your candles
Thanks
By Yusef KomunyakaaThanks for the tree
between me & a sniper's bullet.
I don't know what made the grass
The Absence of Unnecessary Hurting
By Gretchen PrimackThis is the press of the earth. One star hanging
there, honking like a goose. The lake
a smudge of black juice, the hill a draped
True Peace
By Sam HamillHalf broken on that smoky night,
hunched over sake in a serviceman's dive
somewhere in Naha, Okinawa
Red-Tailed Hawk
By Patricia MonaghanJust past dawn in early fall,
a sparrow screamed at me
as I walked into the woods.
Ma Mere n’a Jamais eu des ailes (My momma never had wings)
By Pages MatamMa Mere n'a Jamais eu des ailes
My momma never had wings
But she could tap dance on hurricanes
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