Poem
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From “A Woman Speaks” by Audre Lorde
do not dwellwithin my birth nor my divinities who am ageless and half-grown and still seekingmy sisterswitches in Dahomeywear me inside their coiled cloths as our mother didmourning. Audre Lorde (1934-1992) was an American writer, civil rights activist, poet, and intersectional feminist. Her works include The Black Unicorn, From a Land Where Other People Live, and The Cancer Continue reading
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From “Dolores, Maybe” by John Murillo
Weeks into autumn, someone found the fatherhanged from the same groaning tie-beams,the hayloft black with bottle flies.But that was 1983. Ontario, California.Which is to say, the bottle flies are dead. So, too, the ants.And neither field nor barn is where I left it.I’ve never spoken to anyone about this. Until now, until you. John Murillo Continue reading
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From “Midnight in the Garden of Edinburg” by Michael Jones
cars rest in pieceson cinderblocks forgotten,hoping to be mourned Michael Jones is a friend, a painter, a poet, a philosopher, photographer, “a fetishist by nature [and] Cartesian by design.” His artwork has been featured at the International Museum of Art & Science. Continue reading
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From “I Useta Live in the World” by Ntozake Shange
my oceans were life what aters i have here sit stagnant circlin ol men’s bodies shit & broken lil whiskey bottles left to make me bleed i usedta live in the world now i live in harlem & my universe is six blocks a tunnel with a train i can ride anywhere remaining a stranger Continue reading
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From “Some Things I Would Like to Forget about America” by Paul Guest
I need tell nobody he lost it allthe following year due to a common injuryand now our lifetime earning potentials aren’t so far apart.I once taught where Newt Gingrichfirst appeared to the world like a pale warning.There was a plaque in the hallwayso that no one would ever forgethe lectured the young on the cyclical Continue reading
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From “lady liberty” by Tato Laviera
but the symbol sufferedone hundred years of decayclimbing up to the spined crown,the fractured torch hand,the ruptured intestines,palms blistered and calloused,feet embroidered in rust,centennial decays,the lady’s eyes,cataract filled, exposedto sun and snow, a salty wind,discolored verses staining her robe. Tato Laviera was a Nuyorican poet whose works explored themes of immigration and transcultural identity. He Continue reading
Chapin City Blues 