Skip to Content
Rose Zinnia a trick
Siaara Freeman When I say ancestors, let’s be clear:
I mean slaves. I’m talkin’ Tennessee
cotton & Louisiana suga. I mean grave dirt.
Travis Chi Wing Lau I shrug off my messenger onto the floor and forget to kiss you when I walk through the door.
Bianca Lynne Spriggs Woman,
I get it.
We are strangers,
but I know the heart is a hive
and someone has knocked yours
from its high branch in your chest
Kazim Ali I place the peach gummy on my tongue
I have come to Boulder, Colorado with an agenda which is what
It is my intention to rewrite the cosmic legislation which governs time and space to better allow for what I am for now calling the anarchy of sense
Allison Pitinii Davis Before him, stickers fade across the bumper:
LAST ONE OUT OF TOWN, TURN OFF THE LIGHTS.
The last employer in Youngstown is the weather:
the truck behind him plows grey snow to the roadside
Philip Metres How a Basra librarian
could haul the books each night,
load by load, into her car,
Kazim Ali I was whispered along the road at Ache
toward the sun-puddled gate
Jeff Gundy A good day for late wildflowers--daisies and burrs
leaned out into the path for a better view, brilliant
blue somethings with tiny blooms on tall stalks.
Carly Sachs Where does memory go?
Our windows looking out on the bay,
my wet clothes hanging on the antlers