from part one of Diary of a Wave Outside the Sea
By Dunya MikhailThrough your eye
history enters
and punctured helmets pour out.
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Dunya MikhailThrough your eye
history enters
and punctured helmets pour out.
By Yusef KomunyakaaThanks for the tree
between me & a sniper's bullet.
I don't know what made the grass
By Maria Melendez KelsonEvery part of you contains a secret language.
Your hands and feet detail what you've done.
Your appetite is great, and like the sea,
By Myra SklarewIn the mirror of infinite regress
go back. Go back to Vietnam. To a man
who can spot a trip wire fine as a hair,
By Tyehimba Jessthe war speaks at night
with its lips of shredded children,
with its brow of plastique
By Denise BergmanShe is a neighbor a building away, we talk weather and potholes, exchange
names Mary same as her daughter or is she Marissa or Maria I was distracted
her nephew was chewing the leg of his doll and the day was disappearing before
By Pam UschukIf we shoot past one another
like asteroids on a collision course with Mars,
our tongues acidic with accusations
By Melissa TuckeyA roadside bomb is planted in every chest
I was a pea sized fist in the dirt of a man
who had half your brains
By Philip MetresHow a Basra librarian
could haul the books each night,
load by load, into her car,
By Sam HamillHalf broken on that smoky night,
hunched over sake in a serviceman's dive
somewhere in Naha, Okinawa