Split
By Cathy Linh CheI see my mother at thirteen
in a village so small,
it's never given a name.
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Cathy Linh CheI see my mother at thirteen
in a village so small,
it's never given a name.
By Judith ArcanaYou read the tiny cardboard book before
you scratch the strip under Augie's New Pizza
on the back of MIA:We still don't know
By Penelope Scambly SchottBack when I used to march
in the noon of the green world,
I sang like a crow.
By Deema K. ShehabiI could tell you that listening is made for the ashen sky,
and instead of the muezzin's voice, which lingers
like weeping at dawn,
By Zara HoushmandThe label says Afghan Comedian
and nothing more, no artist, no provenance,
just a monitor’s unlidded eye embedded
By Rashida James-Saadiyawe scatter
dodge words that rip into flesh
hide from clenched fist
By Tiffany HigginsI shall build a city upon a hill
and upon a hill and upon a hill and upon a hill
I am a little shepherd piping low