Split
By Cathy Linh CheI see my mother at thirteen
in a village so small,
it's never given a name.
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Cathy Linh CheI see my mother at thirteen
in a village so small,
it's never given a name.
By DaMaris B. HillI dream of hounds. Their teeth loose in my veins.
Their howls consume me. They growl and feast.
She whispers not to run. I can't refrain.
By Zohra SaedBehave or the sleeping Alexander will reclaim your lungs.
Kandahar -
Was once a cube of sugar
By Quraysh Ali Lansanai've heard tell of a hustle
in brooklyn where clever folks
throw themselves in front of cars
By Carolee Bennett SherwoodThey build boxes upon boxes, great honeycomb cities. Rumbling
trucks deliver parcels of pollen. Pretzel vendors leave good luck
trails of salt along the sidewalks. Busy taxi cab tongues lick up
By Lauryn NesbittAs long as you wake up everyday you should have
no reason to complain, right
i guess if i'm still breathing then i'm not really
By Sheila BlackThe brace was metal, and it fastened around the ankles.
Outside in the street there was the beggar with elephantiasis; there was
the leper, the neighbor with eyes milky blind,
By Ellen Haganthe ones who brought your father here, come. Bring
with them whole almonds, dried berries & clementines
wrapped in cloth. Their clothes & smart shoes too.
By Purvi ShahThe mehndi is leaving my hands,
brown swirls dissolving into brown skin.
Somewhere you are traveling
By Meg EdenI look for a man's hand inside
the folds of my purse, and find
a pattern that recalls a finger print, the way