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Gisselle Yepes

I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO MOURN MEN WHO HAVE NOT TRIED TO KILL ME

By Gisselle Yepes And in twenty-five days, we make a year without
Tio Freddy alive, without his flesh inhaling
cigarettes or bud once filled with wind
like that winter after Wela died, the only winter
we got with him here, we walked
every time we linked
downstairs to smoke, to watch the trees
mirror our empty.
Porsha Olayiwola

Rodney King Mistakes The Deep End Of His Swimming Pool For The Atlantic [...]

By Porsha Olayiwola dry land ain't never been for black folk
the earth taketh away, swallowing who
it knows to be a grieving thing- whom else
incites a fire, ignites a riot— a billy-club
built— a man from dust.
Justice Ameer

we all gotta eat.

By Justice Ameer even ants go to war.
been thinking about it all summer, what it means…
i mean how human. or maybe how ant.
maybe nature begets violence because we all gotta eat.
emet ezell

WALKING ON WATER

By emet ezell i bought her a shitty ass chicken sandwich.
$18.59 and dripping with oil—
my grandmother. she blessed
the meal for ten minutes before
taking a bite. poured out devotion like
gasoline. like pepsi cola. we knew then
that she was dying, but i lived
in the first paragraph, unprepared.
Vickie Vértiz

‘70 Chevy El Camino

By Vickie Vértiz The men inside the Pep Boys wear blue work shirts. Fingerprints on the hems. That’s
how I’m going to be: my hands with grease that won’t wash off. Like Apá buying Freon.
Fenders. My sister sniffs the little trees, outlines the posing girls with her eyes. We buy
peanuts and their candy turns our palms to red
Moncho Alvarado

Amá Teaches Me How to Whistle

By Moncho Alvarado She said, it's facil, look up, kiss everything,
hold the sun between your mouth,

blow like this * * * * * ****
**** * * * * **** *****

after I told her I was a woman, she wrinkled
the space between us by hugging me.
Kay Ulanday Barrett

Sick pastoral: a sick ecology poem

By Kay Ulanday Barrett Then how does candy spill? This way? Stare at the sky
as the MyChart results record blood levels. Peach laden,
cherry lacquer, lilac blossom marathon more at a window
sill on any almost-evening in... what month is it? When
statistics splay, when the masks are forgotten, there'll be
more of us we'll have to teach: catheters are ivy, monstera
fenestration consoles when you're on hold with the pharmacy
again.
Karla Cordero

A Conversation With Siri About Death

By Karla Cordero i watch slasher movies but hate the sight of real blood leave the body

i panic on planes & think of ways the machine or sky

will betray me i read books in fear to evaporate

out of this world without seeing its soft hands
Ina Cariño

Graveyard Picnic

By Ina Cariño memory of magnolia on lapels. grandfather’s paper
cheeks pale, teeth whiter than frosted hibiscus.

when I visit the mausoleum, I lay a white cloth on his tomb,
mesh of cobwebs stretched across the buds
Golden

EVERY DAY IS A CHANCE TO REVOLT

By Golden Eyes open: I see every planet ————————–[pregnant]
with [pedestrians] –—————in their—————–[rivers]

& I wonder if this is the ————————————[Matrix]
reloaded in my [brain] ————the———————[agents]

telling me red is ———————————————[ripe]
[nectar] ——————for tomorrow’s——————[burial]
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