Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Tyler FrenchI was gelling my hair the morning before mounting the Pilgrim’s Memorial Monument
and I found a strand of yours in the blue goop, I wasn’t able to pluck it out so I slicked
the gel through my hair, forward from the back then up in the front and up again
and your black clipping was stuck in my cowlick for the day, I know it fell out
By Ching-In ChenMy people – I see you across street, porch people, huddled under brick archway, watching what pours from sky. Wading in water, what circuits it carries – mostly numb, small, what might feel like circuit’s end.
By Lupe Mendezdon’t even know where to start.
you notice when you walk into the shelter — no joke —
a new war.
By Jae EscotoIf I am she 34 times in a day
And I am only he twice
What is the difference between me and her?
How do we add up?
By Sheila BlackWe come at the wrong time of year by a hair
or a week, and the brown birds flying onward,
out of reach. My son tilts his head.
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.
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.
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
By Karenne Wood1. A white poet whose work I admire said she feels most inspired on her daily four-mile walk through a forest.
2. I wish I had time to walk four miles daily. I can usually manage one mile with dogs. My dogs are distractible, and they distract me.
By Mai Der VangConcerning our hollow breasts,
Lice factions multiplying in our hair.
Concerning our unused stomachs,
Molars waiting to chew, taste buds