bitter crop
By Kelli Stevens Kaneblueberry blackberry as always
bleeding, back road or boulevard,
our boy crowned with baton,
Search Results
Song for the Turtles in the Gulf
By Linda HoganWe had been together so very long,
you willing to swim with me
just last month, myself merely small
Of Late, I Have Been Thinking About Despair
By T. J. Jarrettits ruthless syntax, and the ease with which it interjects
itself into our days. I thought how best to explain this—
this dark winter, but that wasn’t it, or beds unshared
but that isn’t exactly it either, until I remembered
Test for Cognitive Function
By Hermine PinsonMother
Slipper
July
“ I will ask you to recall these words
at the end of our session”
not an elegy for Mike Brown
By Danez SmithI am sick of writing this poem
but bring the boy. his new name
his same old body. ordinary, black
dead thing. bring him & we will mourn
Femicide/Fimicidio ~ The Murdered and Disappeared Women of Ciudad Juarez, Mexico
By Demetrice Anntía WorleyOn this eve of the dead, I cry out loud,
“por favor Virgen de Guadalupe, don’t
forsake me,” before I open the door,
before I see la policía flat
River, Page
By Teresa ScollonLook how you've carried these small bodies
across the ocean, looking for the next one
to hear the story. Look how gently you laid
these children down at the fire where stories are told.
Ways to Count the Dead
By Persis M. KarimTake their limbs strewn about the streets—
multiply by a thousand and one.
Ask everyone in Baghdad who has lost
Pax Americana
By Don ShareJuly kindles the redneck in me.
I blaze down Interstates
that are viaducts for my beery nerves