Mercy
By Tyehimba Jessthe war speaks at night
with its lips of shredded children,
with its brow of plastique
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Tyehimba Jessthe war speaks at night
with its lips of shredded children,
with its brow of plastique
By Saul LandauThe Cold War is over
why aren't we having fun
I have destroyed my internal Timex
By Gretchen PrimackThis is the press of the earth. One star hanging
there, honking like a goose. The lake
a smudge of black juice, the hill a draped
By Joseph RossHammering on rocks
can break the hammerer's back
when stooped
By Truth ThomasShayna reads the Word and takes
the story of that first miracle as
serious as unpaid electric bills in
winter
By Lisa L. MooreWord got out about the bad bill.
College students packed up their bikinis,
went back to Austin to tell those men why
By Lillian AllenThe boy is broken on the sidewalk
The sidewalk is broken beneath him
His colour is back (not black)
By Jennifer PerrineUnder the surface of this winter lake,
I can still hear him say you're on thin ice
now, my heel grabbed, dragged into the opaque
By Theresa Davishoney
you are not being judged
because your bones decided