Daisy Cutter
By Camille T. DungyPause here at the flower stand-mums
and gladiolas, purple carnations
dark as my heart.
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Mutanabbi Street
By Jody BolzPages flit above the ruined bookstalls.
Blank or dark with words, it doesn’t matter:
paper is as dangerous as ink—as thought.
Maine
By Carly SachsWhere does memory go?
Our windows looking out on the bay,
my wet clothes hanging on the antlers
Prayer of the Backhanded
By Jericho BrownNot the palm, not the pear tree
Switch, not the broomstick,
Nor the closet extension
Cord, not his braided belt, but God
That Pomegranate Shine
By Lori DesrosiersI was the wrong kind of bride,
more sweat than glisten,
more peach than pomegranate.
For the Fifty (Who Formed PEACE With Their Bodies)
By Philip MetresIn the green beginning,
in the morning mist,
they emerge from their chrysalis
Eye
By Lee SharkeyWhat do you do with an eye in the cup of your hand?
What do you see that you didn't?
What do you make of a sphere of jelly with fins of torn muscle?
If You Leave Your Shoes
By Joseph RossIf you leave your shoes
on the front porch
when you run
After The UPS Man Shouted “Feed Your Baby At Home” Through His Truck Window
By Melisa Cahnmann-TaylorBionic Feeding Woman
whips breasts out, sprays
privacy netting over him
lynch
By Martha Collinsnot as in pin, the kind that keeps the wheels
turning, and not the strip of land that marks
the border between two fields. unrelated