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Kim Marshall

Spring

By Kim Marshall We rush toward change, ask:
how much
do you love me?
David Gewanter

from HOMESTEAD LOCKOUT

By David Gewanter Wealth, passing through the hands
of the few, becomes the property
of the many, ensuring the survival
M. F. Simone Roberts

Helicopter: A Demilitarization

By M. F. Simone Roberts Begin with da Vinci’s hybrid
of spring and top, of wood and iron,
and completely non-aerodynamic,
then crystallize the blue of the lagoon
Tatiana Figueroa Ramirez

En la Casa de Mami Tita

By Tatiana Figueroa Ramirez I wake up to the alarm clocks
of cocks & gallinas struggling
for their corner of the callejón.
Step out
on the preheated concrete.
Sandra Beasley

Customer Service Is

By Sandra Beasley We take pride in serving the

We’re accustomed to servicing the

Please take the attached

Please answer these six
Katherine E. Young

Mo(u)rning Poem

By Katherine E. Young This is the poem meant for this mo(u)rning,
now the winds have died down,
the dogwood’s unclenched its frightened fists,
and the morning’s calling
Seema Reza

Quartering

By Seema Reza When the soldier knocks on your door, billet book in hand, move aside
to let him enter. He will wipe his feet, remove his hat
(you’ll learn to call it a cover)
he will be polite, place his rifle by the door
Ella Jaya Sran

to my shaking hands

By Ella Jaya Sran to the screams.
to the glass-shattering pleas for life
that no one but they can hear.
to the wooden desks that were my sanctuary
Lauren May

Faux Feminism

By Lauren (Lo) May twitter feminists will scream
my brown eyes be beautiful
while labeling the grey and green “exotic”
love my “black girl afro” when it's plucked and fluffy
Danielle Badra

We are not reconciled to the oppressors who whet their howl on our grief.

By Danielle Badra We are not born to be barons of wealth. We
are soft spoken wordsmiths, not soldiers. We are
not broken by hardship or hate. We are not
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