Writing is an act of resistance
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Elongation
By Annette Januzzi Wick Liz Warren drops from orbit Venus still lit but out of reach Back to the old man in the moon Hope doesn’t float when scorched Annette Januzzi Wick is a writer, teacher and community connector. She makes her home in Cincinnati’s Over-the-Rhine, with her husband, who calls her the…
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Women’s Day
By Cooper Gillespie Cooper Gillespie is a writer and musician. She was raised in the wettest parts of the Pacific Northwest but escaped to California as soon as she was able and was overjoyed to discover the sun actually exists. She plays bass and sings in LANDROID and is an MFA candidate at UC…
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This poem
By Rachel Norman is a product of our time. It wakes up, gasping after dreams where it drowned in ice-melt. It believes we can still change. I saw it yesterday, running, and asked why it ran. It had no words to answer with, only a song it wrote for a child who cried last…
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Beating Wanderlust
By Mileva Anastasiadou It’s not like you chose the destination. But you step onto the car, or the plane, or the ship, attempting to find a comfortable seat. You don’t choose the seat, they tell you, so you sit where indicated, not bothering with questions. And it all seems a miracle in the beginning.…
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Teaching Poetry In Prison
By Susan Kelly-DeWitt I think of him as a victim (a veteran) of war— every day was the enemy in a house- hold that thought children should be punished with barbed wire, belts, burns, punches, pinches, slaps, kicks, starvation. Where meth was the vitamin, sex was the money, where poverty was the neighborhood, poverty…
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I See You
By Laura Martinez First you are “pollo” chicken. Then you are “illegal” just so much contraband or “alien” strange creature from another place to be feared. Less than human. I walk with you through the streets of Nogales, sit with you as you prepare for your journey, as you pray the rosary. I see…
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Please, Be Safe
By Tyhi Conley Before they arrived, we were laughing, telling stories outside of the convenience store. Over the years, the store’s owner got to know us. He’d sold to us since we were kids buying dollar Arizona’s and 50 cent honey buns every summer day on our way to the pools, courts, or houses…
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Poem Where I Mix-Up Fairy Tales
By Courtney LeBlanc Sometimes the wolf shows up in a suit, hair neat and tie perfect, teeth tucked into his mouth to mimic a sly smile. Sometimes he’s a friend, sometimes a stranger, sometimes a lover. Sometimes I crave the beast’s hands on my skin, sometimes I want his bite, sometimes I don’t want…
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To the Racist in Line for Chinese Food at Safeway
By Ty.Brack Yes, you are racist. I know this because of the way you reduced Estefania and America to colored women. I know this because Estefania was helping me and America was helping you. You and I ordered the Express Special at the same time. Estefania returned with my container before America returned with…