The Sheds
byMy antlers are not rightthey are twisted they are not rightthey are growing too fastsoon they will twist and twist together and grow straight…
Poetry
Driving to the Funeral
byI find a run in my panty hose and we stopat Rite-Aid for another pair. In the car,I inch into them, my white winter…
Two Poems by Ricky Ray
byOnce in Twelve Years, I Go to Church I go to the church with the cross in itand I kneel, because it hurts too…
Pact
by“The deaths of two Saudi sisters… discovered on the banks of New York’s Hudson River… a double suicide” CNN 10/29/18 Together. Our thin- lipped…
Good Trouble
byFor John Lewis This Artemis country, helping deliver youWith a lead pipe, baseball bat, and a kick To the ribs like response to your kicking From…
Unrest
byThey believe the world can be good, so I tap the car horn and raise a fist in solidarity with the six or seven teenagers, all…
Walking Past a Farm on the First Day of Spring
byBlades open the earth, with a smelllike blood or bread rubbed to crumbs. News of my darkening country has methinking of poets slaughtered by…
E-Note
byIt is the silence before and after protests that finds me unable to speak. What we fail tosay and what we didn’t say is…
Transit
by
Transit, read by Clare Collins Hogan She wanted a girl. She didn’t get one. That was a year ago now. The end of the...
What if We Could
bybelieve in god, I meanreally believe, the way you believe in the personsitting next to you on the busso when he shifts positionsor spreads his…