Guinotte Wise conjures rebels, roadhouses, and sex.
Ben Berman considers stone hearts and perspective, “how a thing can so readily re-present itself with an entirely new meaning.”
A father’s dying wisdom to the son he never really knew–“Remember how I said /we should run or be eaten. /I kept running and I take it all back.”
Steven Sanchez’s poem expertly navigates childhood abuse and adult love. Rarely does a poem so successfully convey both pain and tenderness.
Are you listening Donald? Part lament, part celebration, Emily Hazel’s poem closes our Immigration and Xenophobia series with a demand that those in power recognize our common dignity.
Regina Baeza Martinez, 16 years old and originally from Mexico, writes of the heartbreak of leaving home and what it means to “taste like the kind of sacrifice he does not want to understand.”
RG Evans invokes Robert Frost to make a short, snarky point.
Joe Amaral’s apocalyptic poem invokes DNA, immigration, and climate change, vividly direction our attention to “the loss and love we must compartmentalize /to share, carrying the burden of melting /glacial scarp still beckoning its magical blue.”
US Army veteran Colin Halloran writes of the overshadowed 2015 Beirut bombing, its “blasts /that have no need /for linguistic shackles.”
An encounter with the police and a Chinese-American family’s sense of “failing in a loud and crazy time” are the subjects of Tina Cane’s stark poem.
Zeus remarks on both sides of the mythic Trojan War. The parallels to our current reality are clear.
Gerald Yelle’s poem is a surreal take on militarization and white flight.
Laura Sweeney’s poem celebrates women’s courage–political and otherwise.
A child experiences a sweetly poignant moment of confusion.
Continuing our Immigration and Xenophobia series, Josh Conklin’s poem captures the selective compassion of the era.
Michael Chin recounts an early lesson in sports, race relations, and language.