Mutanabbi Street

By Jody Bolz Pages flit above the ruined bookstalls.
Blank or dark with words, it doesn’t matter:
paper is as dangerous as ink—as thought.

Prayer of the Backhanded

By Jericho Brown Not the palm, not the pear tree
Switch, not the broomstick,
Nor the closet extension
Cord, not his braided belt, but God

By Remica L. Bingham I enter to find all the students in uniform
occupying a small room.

By Lita Hooper Frederick Lake has been to prison
finished his time
convicted in 1989

By Joseph Ross If you leave your shoes
on the front porch
when you run

By Melisa Cahnmann-Taylor Bionic Feeding Woman
whips breasts out, sprays
privacy netting over him

By Dan Vera Thurgood whispers in Sonia's ears
You know they said the same things about me?
Master two languages, graduate at the top

By Francisco Aragón Despite the absent head (whose eyes

were the green of apples)

By Natalie Illum The first time I saw these activists turned
acrobats, I was immobilized as they arched
through hoops, twisting like DNA.

By A.B. Spellman florene barco moved
to philadelphia &
on a visit home