Loss is an art, traversing one world to the next
By Purvi ShahThe mehndi is leaving my hands,
brown swirls dissolving into brown skin.
Somewhere you are traveling
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I Will Not
By Kathy Engelwrite about the killing of Troy Davis or
the years he claimed innocence so many times
the words fell from his mouth like drops of honey.
Groundwork
By M.J. IuppaThe fence that wasn't a barrier, that didn't hold
anything back or up, but was the grid over the scene of
smoke rising, smoldering from September
Poets Against the War
By Susan BrennanWe stand at the Capitol
seized in snapshots
of curious tourists
Normal
By Reginald Harriswalk long enough
with a pebble in your shoe
and walking with a pebble becomes
normal
Always Here
By Rich Villarlacking a proper entrance
into a poem
about Arizona Senate Bill 1070
Blast
By Marie-Elizabeth MaliPulling out of Union Square station, the subway
sounds the first three notes of There's a place for us,
somewhere a place for us. A woman sits on me, shoves
The Red Sweater
By Joseph O. Legaspislides down into my body, soft
lambs wool, what everybody
in school is wearing, and for me
Autumn, New York, 1999
By Patricia Spears JonesAnd I am full of worry I wrote to a friend
Worry, she replied about what—love, money, health?
All of them, I wrote back. It’s autumn, the air is clear