by Matthew J. Andrews

Hot coffee, Styrofoam cups,
cookies laid out in rows

by Jide Badmus

Some were eager for me
To grow in stature—

by Antony Fangary

diaspora is a city
& i feel like
a toeless pigeon

by Antony Fangary

the westerners
who came to egypt
tumbled into our capital

by Laurie Kuntz

It starts slowly, a rumble
a faint tremble, the light bulb shakes
the windows wrench, crushing glass sounds—

by Laurie Kuntz

Radnoti, a twin, rescued at birth, lived in halves,
thinking of the mother and brother who didn’t survive,

by Frances Mac

there is nobody behind
the so much we need

by Frances Mac

there is a side
never heard

by Juan J. Morales

He was mostly gruff, with heft of PTSD
and work shifts dragging behind him, but then there were days,
when I discovered him watching MTV’s Jackass—

by Juan J. Morales

I speak to you by talking to the stone.
I read your favorite
psalm and then a poem.

by Emily Murphy

The temple is not the mind
is not the body is not the wasting
that carves away flesh

by Mark Osaki

to imagine someone hiding
below us in the grass
with my photo in his wallet.

by Mark Osaki

When they uncover what you buried here,
how will you explain an order carried out
in the heat?

by Roni Sosis

Under the missile-streaked sky the windows are empty in Israel, and the cats lay stomach-up in the street, smothered quiet

by Meredith Trede

A tiny brown spider rappels along
the outdoor shower’s drainpipe. I flick
water at her web. Go away. Please.

by Meredith Trede

I wrote a note.
My boy had joined
the Marine Corps.

by Josie Emmons Turner

When your body was as straight as Ocean Avenue, you dove
in the Pacific, after morning fog lifted, after dolphins