Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Sunu P. ChandyAt the shiny stones and rocks booth, I am unusually patient. I even consider spending a few dollars on a few pebbles. She seemed to sense that, without me saying a word, and I could feel her heart smile.
And then in one instant, everything changed. Looking toward the cashier, she saw, just hanging out there on the wall, real guns in real life.
By Ina Cariñomemory 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
By Joshua NguyenTo begin, let us end
this sentence with no friends or en
emies. Just wrong destin
ations to sad desks in Am-
hurst.
By Tiana NobileWhen you held him, how heavy was his head cradled in your lap? How long did you carry that
weight in your thighs?
By Sumita ChakrabortyWe may try to change the shape of your body, or the color of your skin,
or the kinds of sounds that your mouths make, to match how we think you should.
By Ashna AliOn an assemblage of screens on another firework evening
Ruthie Gilmore reminds us that abolition is not recitation.
By Eugenia LeighSomeone on the internet is mourning
her dad—that old goat—with a goldmine
of anecdotes. Scraps of fondness I scrape off
her tweet—his beef wellington, her frogs. I want
By Travis Chi Wing LauI shrug off my messenger onto the floor and forget to kiss you when I walk through the door.
By Tamiko BeyerDear child of the near future,
here is what I know—hawks
soar on the updraft and sparrows always
return to the seed source until they spot