Poetry
by Celeste Lipkes.
“The doctor clicks his pen and says it’s just a phase. / My fat moon-face comes second to the x-rays // he pulls from a folder labeled with my room number.”
by Sandra Dolores Gómez Amador.
“I do not think about flesh anymore, but if I did, / I would tell you about its adoration / for cruelty.”
by Adam Possner.
“I hear you just beyond reach / of the flickering light of / the TV, which you’ve kindled / as a kind of controlled burn…”
by Laura Passin.
“Given an infinite universe, / given a finite body, / given the bounding constellations
/ of atoms that trace the flesh…”
by Kwame Dawes.
“And, eventually, we remember only the deepest / gloom, waiting still for the sudden suspense / of illumination — the light, blinding…”
by Kwame Sound Daniels.
“One day, I will love you like a meal. / I will love you like holding a spoon to your mouth.”
by Lena Crown.
“Inside the clear glass orb whirl two ribbons / of orange and blue, a goldfish in a bowl.”
by Sean Sam.
“The commanders wish me to say / the language beaten from me. / Each time I speak another sun / drops from the abnormal sky.”
by Rachel Contreni Flynn.
“My sister left for a few weeks, and the lid lifted / off the stock pot. The house filled with the possibility / of eating bread…”