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Natalie Diaz

Why I Don’t Mention Flowers When Conversations with My Brother Reach Uncomfortable Silences

By Natalie Diaz In the Kashmir mountains,
my brother shot many men,
blew skulls from brown skins,
Daniel Nathan Terry

The 8th of May: A Vow

By Daniel Nathan Terry There are oaks that remember
what we would forget--the burn of the rope,
how a body takes on more weight
Derrick Weston Brown

Despite

By Derrick Weston Brown Your brown skin is not a bomb.
Your brown skin does not mean bomb.
Though they doctor pictures.
Lauren May and Asha Gardner

Insane

By Lauren May & Asha Gardner This poem is in video format.
Truth Thomas

Sunday Kind of Love

By Truth Thomas Shayna reads the Word and takes
the story of that first miracle as
serious as unpaid electric bills in
winter
Lillian Allen

Broken

By Lillian Allen The boy is broken on the sidewalk
The sidewalk is broken beneath him
His colour is back (not black)
Jennifer Perrine

A Theory of Violence

By Jennifer Perrine Under the surface of this winter lake,
I can still hear him say you're on thin ice
now, my heel grabbed, dragged into the opaque
Amaranth Borsuk

Character Anatomy

By Amaranth Borsuk Few things the hand wished language could
do, given up on dialect's downward spiral:
words so readily betray things they're meant
Richard Blanco

from One Today

By Richard Blanco All of us as vital as the one light we move through,
the same light on blackboards with lessons for the day:
equations to solve, history to question, or atoms imagined,
Kenji Liu

Elegy for Kimani Gray

By Kenji Liu Sharp tenure of boots in this callow country
grown from open skulls. A raw harvest of bullet casings
arranged in a perfect ring around you,
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