Abuela Warns Me a Caravan Of “Esa Gente” Is Headed Our Way
By Caridad Moro-Gronlierif i should
take you
to that spot
by the water
you can’t pronounce
but love
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Caridad Moro-Gronlierif i should
take you
to that spot
by the water
you can’t pronounce
but love
By Jorrell WatkinsWe shark mouthed, crusty lip, ashy ankle, hairline vanished, brothas
High water sportin’, reebok rockin’, nobody’s name brand brothas.
By Erin HooverMy child babies a squeeze bottle of craft glue
or a lipstick tube filched from my purse.
She yanks a tissue from our coffee table
By Kateema LeeShe grew up hearing about girls
who never made it to womanhood, girls
whose names wore away with each decade
By Emily K. MichaelThe speed reading class for seventh graders
slumped over tight columns of text spread flat
on tables in the library where in her half-glasses
By María FernandaWe 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,
By Rosemary FerreiraHabichuelas 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...”
By Amy M. AlvarezI 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
By Carmin WongStart with something simple: 13 loosely lingering light-hearted lines that eventually morph / into crowbars ★ corps ★ prison cells ★ bylines.
By Kyle DarganThis poem is guilty. It assumed it retained
the right to ask its question after the page
came up flush against its face.