Split
By Cathy Linh CheI see my mother at thirteen
in a village so small,
it's never given a name.
Search Results
Kandahar
By Zohra SaedBehave or the sleeping Alexander will reclaim your lungs.
Kandahar -
Was once a cube of sugar
Apiary
By Carolee Bennett SherwoodThey build boxes upon boxes, great honeycomb cities. Rumbling
trucks deliver parcels of pollen. Pretzel vendors leave good luck
trails of salt along the sidewalks. Busy taxi cab tongues lick up
The Execution of Henry Wirz - November 10, 1865
By Daniel Nathan TerryThat Andersonville was a camp of nightmares,
a dark machine that brought slow death
to nearly 13,000 men, is not in dispute.
Rios Montt
By Nancy C. OtterThe soldier who stopped my father's truck
at the Chiapas border crossing in 1983
might have worked for that man
In a Summer of Snipers
By Joseph RossIn a summer of snipers
some men raised their hands
with fingers pressed
Arthritis is one thing, the hurting another
By Camille T. DungyThe poet's hands degenerate until her cup is too heavy.
You are not required to understand.
This is not the year for understanding.
In a cornfield at the bottom of a sandstone canyon
By Sherwin BitsuiIn a cornfield at the bottom of a sandstone canyon,
wearing the gloves of this song tightly over closed ears;
the bursting sun presses licks of flame
