THE AESTHETICS OF SUFFERING
By Christopher SotoI’m his // retired slut // on food stamps // forever
Sniffing horse tranquilizer // seeing digital dreams
Like a kitten // with eyes sewn shut // like syzygy
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my mother watches her mother’s funeral footage again
By Wo ChanShe closed the doors
and then the blinds
and then her face, midday.
Our Movable Mecca
By Danez Smithwe who were born into conundrum, came into the world as the world was leaving, children
of the ozone, the oppressed, the overlooked, of obtuse greed, of oil overlords, of oblong
definitions of justice
‘I am broken by the revolt exploding inside me’
By Minal HajratwalaYour rage is pomegranates spilling open on ice, is the flute’s thin silver seam, is a volcano spitting rivulets of fire to wash clean these corrupt lands.
The Kindness
By Jan BeattyJan Beatty performs the poem "The Kindness" at the 2016 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
Pennsylvania ave SE
By Taylor JohnsonBless the boys riding their bikes straight up, at midnight, touching,
if only briefly, holding, hands as they cross the light to Independence.
Bless them for from the side the one on the red bike looks like me
his redbrown hair loose against the late summer static heat.
The Transkid Explains Gentrification, Explains Themselves
By Taylor JohnsonWhen I again take out more than I have available in my bank
account and I know I shouldn’t to make the rent
I am grateful and lucky to pay there is
a woman on the bus who is the mother or aunt or some loved one of
The American middle class ...
By Dawn Lundy MartinThe American middle class is screwed again but they don’t know it.
Politics is a gleaming nowhere. Žižek fantasizes about Capitalism’s
inevitable end.
Til the Taste of Free in Our Mouths (Brown Baby Lullaby)
By Heidi Andrea Restrepo RhodesWake. Wake.
These the nights we sing. These the folds,
unborn reverie, ambition marbled mud & shine,
raging anthem born like diamonds out darkest ash & rain