we all gotta eat.
By Justice Ameereven ants go to war.
been thinking about it all summer, what it means…
i mean how human. or maybe how ant.
maybe nature begets violence because we all gotta eat.
Search Results
“Here in the Electric Dusk”
By Emma TrellesAfter winter rains
The hills
Are velvety beasts
We pretend
We have nothing
To worry about
Except for the usual
Minuet of dying
Scraping the corners
Sick pastoral: a sick ecology poem
By Kay Ulanday BarrettThen how does candy spill? This way? Stare at the sky
as the MyChart results record blood levels. Peach laden,
cherry lacquer, lilac blossom marathon more at a window
sill on any almost-evening in... what month is it? When
statistics splay, when the masks are forgotten, there'll be
more of us we'll have to teach: catheters are ivy, monstera
fenestration consoles when you're on hold with the pharmacy
again.
After the George Floyd Protests, My Strange Dream
By Faylita HicksCrawling out from between the legs of a woman
with my name still wetly slathered across her chin,
I cradle the lewd silk of our venom
up against the hot swell of my caged chest, wade out
through her front door, into the murky billows
of the damned and the damnable,
spell for reclaiming the moment
By adrienne maree browneven now
we could be happy
even now
breathing in
filling our bodies with right now
Social Distance Theory
By Ashna AliOn an assemblage of screens on another firework evening
Ruthie Gilmore reminds us that abolition is not recitation.
Apokaluptein
By Hayan ChararaThe Arab apocalypse began around the year
of my birth, give or take—
the human apocalypse,
a few thousand years earlier.
Abuela Warns Me a Caravan Of “Esa Gente” Is Headed Our Way
By Caridad Moro-Gronlierif i should
take you
to that spot
by the water
you can’t pronounce
but love
Alternate universe in which my professor asks if anyone in the room….
By Arianna MonetI say Well, it is a compound word, so..
Code. Noun.
A system of marking things with different colors
as a means of identification.
The Such Thing As the Ridiculous Question –
By Siaara FreemanWhen I say ancestors, let’s be clear:
I mean slaves. I’m talkin’ Tennessee
cotton & Louisiana suga. I mean grave dirt.