Across the Street from the Whitmore Home for Girls, 1949

By Rachel McKibbens The Mad Girls climb the wet hill,
breathe the sharp air through sick-green lungs.
The Wildest One wanders off like an old cow

Uncivil

By Venus Thrash I am wearing a white tux with tails,
or a baby blue one with a ruffly shirt,
or decked out in classic black, or coolly

By Carlos Andrés Gómez This poem is in video format.

By Kathleen Hellen I sit in the front row of
bleachers -- cheap seats for greater grief.
My son

By Judith Arcana You read the tiny cardboard book before
you scratch the strip under Augie's New Pizza
on the back of MIA:We still don't know

By Vanessa Huang May you rest
In peace
This night

By Don Share Greetings to the red-eyed clouds
from this, the house that sits
on the mound and faces the corner

By Melissa Tuckey Two slight young women--
the smaller one
reaches for hands

By Ailish Hopper Each time, Kenny says
With Love,
I look at you, I see

By Ching-In Chen The teacher straightbacked,
faced me off, her eyes.
My face in the cleave of
her shoulder, my bones