Prayer of the Backhanded
By Jericho BrownNot the palm, not the pear tree
Switch, not the broomstick,
Nor the closet extension
Cord, not his braided belt, but God
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Jericho BrownNot the palm, not the pear tree
Switch, not the broomstick,
Nor the closet extension
Cord, not his braided belt, but God
By Tara BettsQuiet girl found a voice mama could not quell
inside Nutbush City Limits. The baby
blasted beyond timid Annie Mae into Tina
By Lori DesrosiersI was the wrong kind of bride,
more sweat than glisten,
more peach than pomegranate.
By Randall HortonThe gavel
The splintered body
The red-neck guards
By Philip MetresIn the green beginning,
in the morning mist,
they emerge from their chrysalis
By Remica L. BinghamI enter to find all the students in uniform
occupying a small room.
By Joseph RossIf you leave your shoes
on the front porch
when you run
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
By Fady JoudahWhen the shooting began
Everyone ran to the trucks
Grabbed whatever their backs needed
And made for the trucks
By David KeplingerLincoln, leaving Springfield, 1861,
Boards a train with a salute: but it is weak.
To correct it, he slides his hand away