Political Soundtrack
By Brian FanelliEvery Sunday, I came dressed in punk rocker black,
checkered pants, steel-toed Docs.
No tie dye on me when I joined
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Brian FanelliEvery Sunday, I came dressed in punk rocker black,
checkered pants, steel-toed Docs.
No tie dye on me when I joined
By Jonathan B. Tuckerpardon our appearance
as we grow to better serve you
says the sign on the fence
By Zein El-AmineSit in their circle.
Don't let your eyes linger
on any object in the room.
By Purvi ShahThe mehndi is leaving my hands,
brown swirls dissolving into brown skin.
Somewhere you are traveling
By Camille T. DungyThe poet's hands degenerate until her cup is too heavy.
You are not required to understand.
This is not the year for understanding.
By Kathy Engelwrite about the killing of Troy Davis or
the years he claimed innocence so many times
the words fell from his mouth like drops of honey.
By Deema K. ShehabiI could tell you that listening is made for the ashen sky,
and instead of the muezzin's voice, which lingers
like weeping at dawn,
By Susan BrennanWe stand at the Capitol
seized in snapshots
of curious tourists
By Zara HoushmandThe label says Afghan Comedian
and nothing more, no artist, no provenance,
just a monitor’s unlidded eye embedded