Postmark from the Transition
By Rachel M. Simonthe name altered from parent's choosing
the threshold of a home
white gloves on the windowsill
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Rachel M. Simonthe name altered from parent's choosing
the threshold of a home
white gloves on the windowsill
By Margaret RozgaLet there be drums and harps,
piccolos and flutes, violins,
banjos and guitars.
By Daniela ElzaI drink a blood sunset down Cardinal Avenue.
my shoes soaked poppies my mind quiet as
a book with a bomb in its mouth.
By celeste doaksTell them it's always under attack. Tell them there's no cure
for the disease, or answer to the riddle. Tell them you asked many
before you, some who won, some who lost.
By Merna HechtThis morning I am remembering you, how as honored guest
you talked with my students who had recently arrived in America
from refugee camps where borders are stacked with blood and bullets.
By Jonathan B. Tuckerpardon our appearance
as we grow to better serve you
says the sign on the fence
By Zein El-AmineSit in their circle.
Don't let your eyes linger
on any object in the room.
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