THE NINE
By Tara HardyThey call it dissociation.
I call it THE NINE (children)
who live inside me.
Each of them encased
in amber, frozen in a mosquito-pose
Search Results
Waiting for a Greyhound Bus at the Los Angeles Station
By Cynthia GuardadoA black woman stands with two toddlers hanging off her hips.
Her balance is perfect as she pushes her luggage with one leg,
the boys curl into her shoulders unaware of how
they all slide forward. I offer her my help. Her face is serious
When I Kiss You, A Casket Opens
By beyza ozerthis is not terrorism
this is toxic masculinity
made in the USA
when my mother hears
about orlando
she doesn't look at me
The Child Formerly Known As _________
By Cameron Awkward-Richis what your father calls you now. Yes, you know
your father loves you
but each time he will not name you
you feel a hole
January 20, 2017
By Tonee Mae MollWe’re looking for that old revolutionary road again
a poet said we’d meet where the grass grows uphill.
I couldn’t think of a better way to describe America
torch in one hand, scrolling through her smart phone with the other
Almost Midnight
By Deborah A. MirandaWife and dogs have gone to bed.
I sit here with the front door open.
Crickets sing patiently, a long lullaby
in lazy harmony. Rain falls
Prababushka
By Tanya Papernyclick on a live stream
of a memorial event
to commemorate victims
of Soviet terror
The Day After American Samoa Is Under Water
By Terisa SiagatonuThe evening news helicopters compete for the best camera angle
above the water, fighting to find anything worthy of coverage.
A floating high chief. A baby’s arm flattened by a coconut tree. Anything.
Even the Titanic was enormous enough to leave remnants of itself
Faux Feminism
By Lauren (Lo) Maytwitter feminists will scream
my brown eyes be beautiful
while labeling the grey and green “exotic”
love my “black girl afro” when it's plucked and fluffy