If You Leave Your Shoes
By Joseph RossIf you leave your shoes
on the front porch
when you run
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Joseph RossIf you leave your shoes
on the front porch
when you run
By Andrea GibsonThis is for the possibility that guides us
and for the possibilities still waiting to sing
and spread their wings inside us
By Cornelius EadyA warning one white friend hisses
To the one standing nearest to me
At an Upper West Side newsstand.
By Quincy TroupeThe hours fly quick on wings of clipped winds
like nonsense blown from mouths of hot air—
people—including my own—form syllables, suds
By Natalie IllumThe first time I saw these activists turned
acrobats, I was immobilized as they arched
through hoops, twisting like DNA.
By Lenelle Moïsethe children of haiti
are not mythological
we are starving
By Allison Adelle Hedge CokeAmerica, I sing back. Sing back what sung you in.
Sing back the moment you cherished breath.
Sing you home into yourself and back to reaso