Temple
By Rayna MomenUnprotected sex is a woman in America.
Unprotected sex is a woman in the world.
My body is my temple and will always be
it is not some place where you go to pray
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Rayna MomenUnprotected sex is a woman in America.
Unprotected sex is a woman in the world.
My body is my temple and will always be
it is not some place where you go to pray
By Elizabeth HooverÑuul, the teacher says and smacks his knee to show
where the stress falls. Ñuul, the children repeat each
starting at a different time so they sing a sour chord.
By Persis M. KarimTake their limbs strewn about the streets—
multiply by a thousand and one.
Ask everyone in Baghdad who has lost
By Gretchen Primackand there was a dog, precisely the colors of autumn,
asleep between two trunks by the trail.
But it was a coyote, paws pink
By Eduardo C. CorralAre the knees & elbows
the first knots
the dead untie?
By Sheila BlackSheila Black reads "My Mission is to Surprise & Delight" at the 2014 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
My daughter works in the Apple Store--the Help Center, open 24-7,
people from all fifty states, angry because their iPhones
malfunctioned or they don't know how to program their data
By Eduardo C. CorralA girl asleep beneath a fishing net
Sandals the color of tangerines
Off the coast of Morocco
By Gretchen PrimackThis is the press of the earth. One star hanging
there, honking like a goose. The lake
a smudge of black juice, the hill a draped
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 Penelope Scambly SchottBack when I used to march
in the noon of the green world,
I sang like a crow.