Always Here
By Rich Villarlacking a proper entrance
into a poem
about Arizona Senate Bill 1070
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Autumn, New York, 1999
By Patricia Spears JonesAnd I am full of worry I wrote to a friend
Worry, she replied about what—love, money, health?
All of them, I wrote back. It’s autumn, the air is clear
The Furious Dance
By Holly BassWhat is a furious dance?
It is not polite.
Does not shuck and jive or shuffle along.
Mutanabbi Street
By Jody BolzPages flit above the ruined bookstalls.
Blank or dark with words, it doesn’t matter:
paper is as dangerous as ink—as thought.
See Them Coming
By Sholeh WolpéHere come the octopi of war
tentacles wielding guns, missiles
holy books and colorful flags.
For the Fifty (Who Formed PEACE With Their Bodies)
By Philip MetresIn the green beginning,
in the morning mist,
they emerge from their chrysalis
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The Republic of Poetry
By Martín EspadaIn the republic of poetry,
a train full of poets
rolls south in the rain
The Hours Fly Quick
By Quincy TroupeThe hours fly quick on wings of clipped winds
like nonsense blown from mouths of hot air—
people—including my own—form syllables, suds
Torso
By Francisco AragónDespite the absent head (whose eyes
were the green of apples)