Rage is a thing that has to be birthed, because we do so much course correction – or at least my experience has felt like, at multiple times, someone has done something anti-Black to me, someone has done something racist, homophobic, transphobic, and I feel, in that moment, I can’t react the way that I want to.
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Two Poems by Sher Ting Chim
Why is it
when we die,
We always remember most
the song from our childhood?
Two Poems by Rita Mae Reese
I will give him this bird trapped in a doorway,
a mad heart in feathers and pulsing eyes.
Two Poems by Marilyn Nelson
In petticoats, ribbons, and ostrich plumes,
with watch chains, snuff boxes, and monocles,
we were enchanted individuals
last night, cinderellas without our brooms.
Two Poems by Karen An-hwei Lee
Angelenos call the phenomenon of swarming water bees
a congregation as in a church
Two Poems by Sarah Hansen
my spine curved/ into a question mark, my pen sketching symptoms/ on an empty man's silhouette.
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Two Poems by Alana de Hinojosa
I took so long to learn / the black in pockets is you
Read MoreTwo Poems by Lisa Huffaker
the raw energy of / threat
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Two Poems by Kelly R. Samuels
How industrious and cheerful we appear, opening/ the water back up to the sky,
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Two Poems by Collin Van Son
Ten degrees and it’s night, painted stars/ adorning my flask.
Two Poems by Michael Battisto
I wear/ my drab green gown and listen/ to the insecurities of the nurses.
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Two Poems by Kathryne David Gargano
a trembling/ of finches, for example: flung down/ a coal mine/ if she returns to me/ i am safe to remain
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Two Poems by E.C. Belli
Fog can be an atmospheric condition or / a type of bewilderment— / I am asked to think of ways / In which I can keep it / From settling
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Three Poems by Ceren Ege
My mother chose to place his lungs in rice long before the doctors decided to / tease the tumor. Let the grains pull
out the chicken stock from its veins long before she stopped / cooking. My father was a quiet man.
Two Poems by Natalie Dunn
We would lie on her bed with our legs up on the white wall eating saltines / with butter while we made a list of everything we wanted. / Try to keep your hunger, someone said when she died in the summer. / I ate flour and bone. Measured the distance between two cups on the table.
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The Muse the World Forgot to Name by Mureall Hebert
She paints roses under heavy skies. Purple, / the color of bruised plums. The artistry is in knowing / her audience, their heart-beaten stutter riding / on airbrushed waves.
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Two Poems by Jennifer Lynn Krohn
they want a corpse, / a girl who'll only grow / skinnier with rot. A girl / who will disappear / into a handful of dust.
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Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
Two Poems by Nicholas Gruber
i brush my cheek with a lover so bewildered by kissing, he detonates / my clenched gristle instead. in red honey clothes, i am similar flesh / & you know new lovers: always making do.
Read MoreTwo Poems by Robin LaMer Rahija
we forced open small holes and planted / their delicate bodies, covered / the white network / of translucent roots. / We watered them and waited.
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Two Poems by Chloe Martinez
You were looking for water, as you // (or some other five hundred ants) / always do in the heat, in September.
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