Makers
By Pamela AlexanderWe didn’t waste them. We used the trees
to build, to burn. Some jungles
got in our way, and animals, especially bears.
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Pamela AlexanderWe didn’t waste them. We used the trees
to build, to burn. Some jungles
got in our way, and animals, especially bears.
By Denice FrohmanBy now, you know their names, their cheekbones—
the tender hands they offered when you walked in.
You know the quivering strength of prayer and the art of making God listen.
How faith can summon weary backbones into pyramids.
By Grace CavalieriIt’s a little thing. Could be
the long o’s in Kosovo, or
a woman
alone in the street
By Tafisha A. Edwards4. Your rapist has elected to continue receiving his bi-weekly paychecks via direct
deposit. Your rapist has elected not to cash out his 401K for fear of incurring
penalties. Your rapist recently called HR to review his health care coverage—
open enrollment will begin in a few short months and coverage options
are changing.
By Radhia ChehaibiI’m alone as usual
but the city is unusually alone.
I watch over its wilderness out of my window.
By Sunu P. ChandyOctober on the subway, roses at my side
kids being loud. One skinny girl
with a cap and a pretty smile
gets up to give me her seat
By Lorenzo Herrera y LozanoBrown is the color of my god’s skin.
Gentle, curvy, older than a Spanish whip.
My god abides outside of sin,
no water needed to baptize the newly born.
By Hayes DavisAfter their hands are washed
After their utensils are chosen
After little brother needs help
After “Get back to the table!”
By Teri Ellen Cross DavisWhen you were inside me I could feel you thrive
your rounded kicks, my body your taut drum.
Now I beat these breasts, betrayed by a landscape
that wilts, a place where even tears won’t come.
By Bennie Herroni always thought
babies came from dancing
i owned every color of
corduroyed pants