Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Raquel Salas Riveralos blancos en sus casas lloran
porque han tenido que desahuciar a sus huéspedes.
los apellidos y las propiedades lloran
porque han quemado los títulos de propiedad
de los gusanos.
***
the whites cry in their houses
because they’ve had to evict the guests.
the last names and the properties cry
because they’ve burned
the worms’ deeds.
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
By Karenne Wood1. A white poet whose work I admire said she feels most inspired on her daily four-mile walk through a forest.
2. I wish I had time to walk four miles daily. I can usually manage one mile with dogs. My dogs are distractible, and they distract me.
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By David GewanterWealth, passing through the hands
of the few, becomes the property
of the many, ensuring the survival
By Tatiana Figueroa RamirezI wake up to the alarm clocks
of cocks & gallinas struggling
for their corner of the callejón.
Step out
on the preheated concrete.
By Danielle BadraWe are not born to be barons of wealth. We
are soft spoken wordsmiths, not soldiers. We are
not broken by hardship or hate. We are not
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By John JamesIn Georgetown, IN, the steel projector reels.
The desert stretches blankly before us, a red
plain constellated with rows of dry mesquite.
By Sharon OldsThey put roofs over our heads.
Ours was made of bent tiles,
so the edge of the roof had a broken look,
By Sonia SanchezThere are women sailing the sky
I walk between them
They who wear silk, muslin and burlap skins touching mine
They who dance between urine and violets
By JP Howardblack women we be trying to hold worlds
on our backs, in our hearts without fail
some days we fail at perfection