Walls and Mirrors, Fall 1982
By Deborah ParedezThe English translation of my surname is walls
misspelled, the original s turned to its mirrored
twin, the z the beginning of the sound for sleep.
Search Results
Hard Winter
By Matt DalyEverywhere I go, people are shouting
at one another, people are shaking
their fists at one another. Everywhere
I go, I see someone knapping
an edge to a stone.
At the Medicaid Office
By Kit YanThey are giving out Turkeys at the Public Assistance office,
Wrapped in plastic,
The legs folded in, balled for convenience,
You must have had to write your name on a raffle ticket,
I came too late to see the process.
Aunties love it when seafood is on sale
By Kay Ulanday BarrettIn summertime, the women
in my family spin sagoo
like planets, make
even saturn blush.
Negrotopia #3 (Self Portrait as Heaven)
By Julian RandallCue the Anthony Hamilton/and name me a mansion/tell everyone there is space here/if you
​ believe in the reincarnated/I am already somewhere/that somebody has gone/
ARS POLITICA: HOW TO MAKE ART
By Laurie Ann GuerreroYou must start small as our mothers were small,
our fathers, too, small.
In a pillowcase whip-stitched with roses
or in an old coffee can, collect your abuelos’
teeth; assure them you will not bury them
near the bones of the dog that froze
To the woman I saw today who wept in her car
By Bianca Lynne SpriggsWoman,
I get it.
We are strangers,
but I know the heart is a hive
and someone has knocked yours
from its high branch in your chest
THE NINE
By Tara HardyThey call it dissociation.
I call it THE NINE (children)
who live inside me.
Each of them encased
in amber, frozen in a mosquito-pose
intermittent apnea of unknown causation
By Doritt Carrollthe first time it happened
i thought i was being strangled
four fingers compressing each side of my throat
no air
On Calling the Cops.
By Rasheed CopelandIt took us this long to slow our dying
down to a languid and sensible pace
wherein the sugar might claim each our limbs