Ars Poetica
By Kevin SimmondsI can write a poem
to the limbs of a grandmother
seeded in a scorched field
where her house stood
Search Results
Sticking It to the Man
By Jan BeattyLateeka's working, my favorite teller--
she's got wild nail art & fire red/
feather extensions.
In line: young guy in hi-tops w/ipod,
I Will Tell Her about Icarus
By Patricia Davisabout his sister how she
wanted
to be light
built night in her ribs
Anxiety Attack at 27,000 Feet
By Nicholas SamarasWhat is that red throbbing over the sound of engines?
Why is a distant war still being talked about in the media?
I can't see my home or Iraq or the Middle East
outside this bowed rectangle of blue altitude.
The Dogs and I Walked Our Woods,
By Gretchen Primackand there was a dog, precisely the colors of autumn,
asleep between two trunks by the trail.
But it was a coyote, paws pink
Dressing Down
By Kamilah Aisha MoonWhen you're gay in Dixie,
you're a clown of a desperate circus.
Sometimes the only way to be like daddy
from Forgetting Willie James Jones
By David Tomas MartinezIt's not water to wine to swallow harm,
though many of us have,
and changing the name
Grace Before Meals
By Lauren K. AlleyneAs a child, I'd refuse to eat my veggies,
pushing them round and round my plate
until my mother's glare unclamped my jaw
azul / lejos
By Pablo Miguel Martinezthe math of dance
the math of breath
counting 4 / 4
The Therapist Says to Talk Through Your Door in Case You’re Listening
By Elizabeth AcevedoRob, my heart is a peeled clementine and I don't wince
anymore when you stick your thumb in the hollow middle,
pull apart. You don't even swallow these pieces