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Caridad Moro-Gronlier

Abuela Warns Me a Caravan Of “Esa Gente” Is Headed Our Way

By Caridad Moro-Gronlier if i should
take you
to that spot
by the water
you can’t pronounce
but love
Jorrell Watkins

Blood

By Jorrell Watkins We shark mouthed, crusty lip, ashy ankle, hairline vanished, brothas
High water sportin’, reebok rockin’, nobody’s name brand brothas.
Erin Hoover

To be a mother in this economy

By Erin Hoover My child babies a squeeze bottle of craft glue
or a lipstick tube filched from my purse.
She yanks a tissue from our coffee table
Kateema Lee

Remembrance

By Kateema Lee She grew up hearing about girls
who never made it to womanhood, girls
whose names wore away with each decade
Emily K. Michael

Blindness Locked Me Out

By Emily K. Michael The speed reading class for seventh graders
slumped over tight columns of text spread flat
on tables in the library where in her half-glasses
María Fernanda

This Event is For People of Color - Ages 16 and Up

By María Fernanda We leave our leather. Finding a spot on Miya’s
living room floor, we untuck our bound things:
a borrowed yoga mat, a stretched hair tie,
Rosemary Ferreira

This is the city that I love

By Rosemary Ferreira Habichuelas bubbling on the stovetop. The kitchen door opens to our backyard. My father cuts out a piece of the campo and plants it here in Brooklyn. There are neighbors who knock on the door with a broom to let us know they’re selling pasteles. The train rumbles into a screech in the background, “This is Gates Avenue, the next stop is...”
Amy M. Alvarez

I keep lighting candles on my stoop and watching the wind snuff them out

By Amy M. Alvarez I keep thinking about Breonna Taylor asleep/ between fresh sheets/ I keeping thinking/ about her skin cooling after a shower/ about her hair wrapped in a satin bonnet/ I think about what she may have dreamed that night
Carmin Wong

The Proper Way to Prepare the U.S. Flag

By Carmin Wong Start with something simple: 13 loosely lingering light-hearted lines that eventually morph / into crowbars ★ corps ★ prison cells ★ bylines.
Kyle Dargan

Poem Resisting Arrest

By Kyle Dargan This poem is guilty. It assumed it retained
the right to ask its question after the page

came up flush against its face.
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