Labor DayBy sam sax
The Future of Cities: any word / traced to its origin is a small boy begging for water
Migrant Is Not a MetaphorBy Cynthia Dewi Oka
The Future of Cities: A migrant learns to love as mothers do, / by trying and trying again.
TenebraeBy R. A. Villanueva
Praise instead the night, / it’s starless, basilica void.
Let’s Not BeginBy Maggie Smith
Worry and console, worry / and console: it’s how I stay / in shape.
TassiopeiaBy Kaveh Akbar
I came out / hot as a punched jaw
AsylumBy Hala Alyan
They said burn the keys / but only our hair caught fire.
A SoldierBy Admiel Kosman, translated from the Hebrew by Lisa Katz
the melting seconds of your longing / in the brown of a military shirt
She Walked In / She Walked OutBy Roberto Montes
Whatever you touched grew more like itself
Question of OriginsBy Kamil Bouška, translated from the Czech by Ondrej Pazdirek
Each fossil / is overburdened with life
How Easy to Live with ChoiceBy Esther Lin
Oh it’s / a gold rush of expectations this place.
Apocalypse with Bed SheetsBy Brian Clifton
I pick him up, / and he unravels / into a sheet.
Hyel’s ZumbiBy jayy dodd
Call his neck plum, when it bruises / say the skin makes it easy to digest.
Straight to the jawline bloody IgorBy Shelly Taylor
Future of Language: Trumpets skyward, you know about it, side eye, you know how goes silence in the rock-n-roll
Twentieth-First CenturyBy Samuel Amadon
Future of Language: I vote with my feet. I vote with my wallet. / I vote in person with my vote.
Hera, Say HelloBy Meghan Privitello
Why, among this applause, / have I become so small in this life
There’s no such thing as a free symphonyBy Sonya Bilocerkowycz
We reap / such risky skills from childhood
the underworldBy Tyler Gonlag
your sad eyes are a river / the locals know not to swim
VisionsBy Kate Gaskin
Cousin, I have had a premonition.
From L’Heure Bleue, or The Judy PoemsBy Elisa Gabbert
it’s good to remember / how much it hurts
White Boy Time Machine: SoftwareBy Hieu Minh Nguyen
b u t w h e r e a r e y o u r e a l l y f r o m ? / yesterday is the wrong answer, tomorrow too
In VitroBy Christopher Salerno
hair as unreal / as a doll built by hand / in the hold of beautiful ship
Lessons on ExpulsionBy Erika L. Sánchez
This grain, this / wild greedy thing
[I too drag around tin cans]By Yosefa Raz
Boundaries of Nations: I too fear / invisible drunken singers, I too fear / white horses.
Love American-Made/ Your Toy Ode:UsBy Aliah Lavonne Tigh
Boundaries of Nations: The heart I hide behind the hood: / always speeding hot, too / easily interstated.
Annie Scrubs Motel FloorsBy Brianna Albers
there was no sex & the bruises / were Boy’s way of saying no, then yes, then no again
The Parable of the Wayward ChildBy Shara McCallum
All her life as if / she in a race with ruin.
The Saints of the Last DaysBy Aimée Baker
Pray that on this evenfall, bees will fly thick / from her mouth.
I From Absolute SolitudeBy Dulce María Loynaz, translated from the Spanish by James O'Connor
I believe they are many, and some are beautiful and deserve to live.
Charon’s ObolBy Madeleine Wattenberg
The truth is / I’d tongue the honey from most any hand / that granted me a crossing.
ArtBy Chris Martin
Everything is art / to be broken.