The Absence of Unnecessary Hurting

By Gretchen Primack This is the press of the earth. One star hanging
there, honking like a goose. The lake
a smudge of black juice, the hill a draped

True Peace

By Sam Hamill Half broken on that smoky night,
hunched over sake in a serviceman's dive
somewhere in Naha, Okinawa

By Patricia Monaghan Just past dawn in early fall,
a sparrow screamed at me
as I walked into the woods.

By Pages Matam Ma Mere n'a Jamais eu des ailes
My momma never had wings
But she could tap dance on hurricanes

By Purvi Shah The mehndi is leaving my hands,
brown swirls dissolving into brown skin.
Somewhere you are traveling

By Joseph Ross In a summer of snipers
some men raised their hands
with fingers pressed

By Joseph O. Legaspi slides down into my body, soft
lambs wool, what everybody
in school is wearing, and for me

By Holly Bass What is a furious dance?
It is not polite.
Does not shuck and jive or shuffle along.

By Kenneth Carroll who will come to tell us what we know
that the king’s clothes are soiled with
the history of our blood and sweat

By Philip Metres In the green beginning,
in the morning mist,
they emerge from their chrysalis