American Lục Bát For the End of The World [At Long Last, At Least We Have Our Language?] ...
By Joshua NguyenTo begin, let us end
this sentence with no friends or en
emies. Just wrong destin
ations to sad desks in Am-
hurst.
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Yuri
By Tiana NobileWhen you held him, how heavy was his head cradled in your lap? How long did you carry that
weight in your thighs?
The B-Sides of the Golden Records, Track Two: “Sounds of Human Labor”
By Sumita ChakrabortyWe may try to change the shape of your body, or the color of your skin,
or the kinds of sounds that your mouths make, to match how we think you should.
Provocations 1
By mónica teresa ortizI wake up sleepless inside a room overlooking giants//mist peeling over olive trees//clouds of pleasure
Remembrance
By Kateema LeeShe grew up hearing about girls
who never made it to womanhood, girls
whose names wore away with each decade
Of Avocados
By Juan J. MoralesLike two hands pressed
together, they are twice as large
on the island. One feeds
Ode to Jacob Blinder
By Janlori GoldmanHis face stared out into the living room
of my grandparents’ walk-up on E. 13th.
After they died my father hung him
We
By Deborah A. MirandaThe people you cannot treat as people
Whose backs bent over your fields, your kitchens, your cattle, your children
We whose hands harvested the food we planted and cultivated for your mouth, your belly.
The Where in My Belly
By Kimberly BlaeserScientists say my brain and heart
are 73 percent water—
they underestimate me.