Cayucos
By Eduardo C. CorralA girl asleep beneath a fishing net
Sandals the color of tangerines
Off the coast of Morocco
Search Results
Ghazal for the Ninth Month
By Shadab Zeest HashmiYour august birth, my taking oath as an American, were only weeks apart.
The most I can remember is your rocking to a dull ache before we were apart.
Our hill was plush, the whole place soaked up the scent of raisin pulao.
A Building Away
By Denise BergmanShe is a neighbor a building away, we talk weather and potholes, exchange
names Mary same as her daughter or is she Marissa or Maria I was distracted
her nephew was chewing the leg of his doll and the day was disappearing before
from One Today
By Richard BlancoAll of us as vital as the one light we move through,
the same light on blackboards with lessons for the day:
equations to solve, history to question, or atoms imagined,
The Borders Are Fluid Within Us
By Dan VeraThis is what is feared:
that flags do not nourish the blood,
that history is not glorious or truthful.
Manistee Lights
By Samiya BashirBrother I don't either understand this
skipscrapple world that is--these
slick bubble cars zip feverish down
Looking for The Gulf Motel
By Richard BlancoThe Gulf Motel with mermaid lampposts
and ship's wheel in the lobby should still be
rising out of the sand like a cake decoration.
Ma Mere n’a Jamais eu des ailes (My momma never had wings)
By Pages MatamMa Mere n'a Jamais eu des ailes
My momma never had wings
But she could tap dance on hurricanes
Special Effects
By Merna HechtThis morning I am remembering you, how as honored guest
you talked with my students who had recently arrived in America
from refugee camps where borders are stacked with blood and bullets.
barreras
By María Luisa ArroyoMami called us away from the roach trap line
where novice factory workers, fresh from the island,
and I, fresh from Germany, poked