Nexus
By Brenda CárdenasThis body always compost--
hair a plot of thin green stems
snowing a shroud of petals,
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Brenda CárdenasThis body always compost--
hair a plot of thin green stems
snowing a shroud of petals,
By Tess TaylorThe ridge a half mile down from Monticello.
A pit cut deeper than the plow line.
Archaeologists plot the dig by scanning
By celeste doaksAaron and Anita, the first real twins I ever personally knew,
drum majored our ragged band in high school called--
the Marching LaSalle Lions. Anita was the outgoing,
By Natalie DiazIn the Kashmir mountains,
my brother shot many men,
blew skulls from brown skins,
By Dunya MikhailThrough your eye
history enters
and punctured helmets pour out.
By Myra SklarewIn the mirror of infinite regress
go back. Go back to Vietnam. To a man
who can spot a trip wire fine as a hair,
By Kathi WolfeI'm in my seat,
averting my eyes,
those funhouse mirrors,
By Lisa L. MooreWord got out about the bad bill.
College students packed up their bikinis,
went back to Austin to tell those men why
By Lillian AllenThe boy is broken on the sidewalk
The sidewalk is broken beneath him
His colour is back (not black)
By Jennifer PerrineUnder the surface of this winter lake,
I can still hear him say you're on thin ice
now, my heel grabbed, dragged into the opaque