Note from a Prodigal Son III
By Randall HortonThe gavel
The splintered body
The red-neck guards
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Eye
By Lee SharkeyWhat do you do with an eye in the cup of your hand?
What do you see that you didn't?
What do you make of a sphere of jelly with fins of torn muscle?
lynch
By Martha Collinsnot as in pin, the kind that keeps the wheels
turning, and not the strip of land that marks
the border between two fields. unrelated
Manchild
By Cornelius EadyA warning one white friend hisses
To the one standing nearest to me
At an Upper West Side newsstand.
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The Republic of Poetry
By Martín EspadaIn the republic of poetry,
a train full of poets
rolls south in the rain
Mud Mothers
By Lenelle Moïsethe children of haiti
are not mythological
we are starving
Zen of Tipping
By Jan BeattyMy friend Lou
used to walk up to strangers
and tip them - no, really -