"don’t ya know i cried when you died / i say kinfolk you ain’t dead / in me you be alive awaitin ya second comin"
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The Scorpion by Leila Khaleghi
“Hello, old friend,” she whispered into the void. The fullness inside her swelled. She never imagined that she would have welcomed his well-armored companionship. But how different he seemed this time, a herald of harmony rather than hostility. A true friend. Oh, how good it was to see him.
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Two Poems by Vikesh Kapoor
"I care to understand,/ upon the backs/ of mother’s hands/ who cradle the scars of eastern sunrise,/"
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Turn Away by Stephanie La Rose
Permanently installed in my mortal mind’s corner sits Mrs. Eddy, ram-rod straight on her wooden chair, dark hair pleated, expression severe, Victorian jacket battened down, white ruff protruding round neck and wrists.
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Can Chimera Be Rescued? by Kristin Emanuel
Forget the original myth, its violence, its finality, your own complicity. What if--instead of dominion--this could be about tenderness?
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A Normal Interview with Éric Morales-Franceschini by Victoria Monsivaiz
My poetry is indeed heavily indebted to my studies in history, psychoanalysis, political economy, and critical social theory; but I find that, at times, only via poetry can I adequately express the gravity and intricacy of not just a given fact, but what I should (like to) do in light of that fact.
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