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Marjan Naderi

Learning My Name

By Marjan Naderi In first grade, I told kids my name was Sarah.
Saw the way Sarah lifted the curtain
But never cleared the confusion
white enough for no one to ask questions.
Kenneth Carroll III

saturday afternoon

By Kenneth Carroll III we ride in on the red line
our laces coming undone as we float over fair gates

until we fall into a night

ripe
with everything our tongues have been yearning for
Amal Rana

The night poetry danced with us

By Amal Rana Orlando 49
emblazoned on the back of a t-shirt
worn by a white queer
who looked through and past
our table of Latinx, Indigenous, Black, Muslim queers
Jae Escoto

The Formula for Forgiveness

By Jae Escoto If I am she 34 times in a day
And I am only he twice
What is the difference between me and her?
How do we add up?
Pacyinz Lyfoung

The Day I Learned to Speak My Grandmother’s Tongue

By Pacyinz Lyfoung The day I learned to speak my grandmother’s tongue
An Eastern wind shifted the earth
While the western walls were whisked away…
And the mountains of Laos rose on the horizon,
Gowri Koneswaran

A Message of the Emergency Broadcasting System

By Gowri Koneswaran this is a message of the emergency broadcasting system
this is a war on terror

this is a message of the emergency broadcasting system
this is a war of terror

hello my name is Tamil
a minority in america
the second largest ethnic group
in sri lanka
Savannah Sipple

And the Word Was God

By Savannah Sipple In the beginning was the word and the word was FAT
in the beginning I was fat in the beginning I was lean &
long carried two weeks past due & wore preemie clothes & then I
chunked up baby fat a fat baby baby I grew big
Bao Phi

Lights

By Bao Phi A small handle with fiber-optic cables springing like snakes from Medusa’s head. Press a button and tiny colored dots at the end of the translucent strings would light. The day after the Shrine Circus, all the kids in my class had them, waving them.
Meg Day

Origin Calling

By Meg Day In the dangerous years
everyone took lovers

but us.
Angelique Palmer

God or a Lottery Ticket in a Black Woman’s Purse

By Angelique Palmer Trying to find faith
in a world that is slowly killing me and blaming me for why they can’t do it right

or why survival might be the only thing in the way of enjoying life
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