Pam Johnson Davis
“You’ve never had sex?!”
That’s the first thing I remember about ninth grade math. I was placed in an advanced class, shyly sitting behind some eleventh-grade girls as they gossiped about
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MAURYA KERR
My husband, who loves to say the word ‘black’ as often
as he can, even when it doesn’t quite work,
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Everybody Sings the Blues, Sometimes
Spinning, we shut our sleep-deprived eyes
and recite prayers until evil is no longer
subletting space inside our thoughts.
Compton College Students Hold Weed-Stank Breath in a 2001 Pontiac Aztek
Sheriff Deputy’s creeping black and white,
flashing red lights, their CrownVic stopping steep
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Amelia Bailey
At the ancestral graves, they ask, what are you?
And in the chill of the night, I reply,
I am the shadow of the sun, the darkest hue.
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inspect my perpetual motion blood
machine. inside brackish waters new
species bloom—a microbiome of
fauna in my blossoming gut. I am
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Reuben Evans
Dictator of deeds, and a memorandum of morals as we’re unconsciously obligated to comply.
This is how to enlist as eligible in the collective of American culture, constrain yourself to the
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ALL THE BATTLES YOU FOUGHT WERE NOT YOURS
All the battles
you fought were not yours.
For others’ delight,
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