Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
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By emet ezelli bought her a shitty ass chicken sandwich.
$18.59 and dripping with oil—
my grandmother. she blessed
the meal for ten minutes before
taking a bite. poured out devotion like
gasoline. like pepsi cola. we knew then
that she was dying, but i lived
in the first paragraph, unprepared.
By Margo TamezThe weather in Brecksville was in transition.
He was wearing a light jacket. The seasonal
change of weather variations,
By Natalie WeeI was born in 1993, the year Regie Cabico became the first
Asian American to win the Nuyorican Poets Cafe Grand Slam.
By Raymond AntrobusI was searched at every edge. I wanted everyone, including me, to be innocent. One inmate squeezed my hand like a letter he’d been hoping for.
By Amal RanaOrlando 49
emblazoned on the back of a t-shirt
worn by a white queer
who looked through and past
our table of Latinx, Indigenous, Black, Muslim queers
By Zeina Hashem BeckZeina Hashem Beck performs the poem "Naming Things" at the 2016 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Amal Al-Jubouri—My solitude, to which I always returned
City that kept my secret religion in her libraries
I came back to rest my head on her shoulder
and with just one look, she saw how tired I was
By Hari Allurithe tea in her glass. It glows the brocade.
Her grandmother picked that tea
on a mountain—a mountain in a war
whose shores were her bed. Steeping, the petals
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By Cacayo BallesterosChapas is what cops are called
in my country
who threw the too tortured
in the lion pits
of the Military Academy zoo