And there were stairs and they were steep and had to be climbed to soak in the tub, to lie down. Snow to be shoveled
like a tapestry of worn threads. Our feet carry us here: a pilgrimage of shared suffering. Greetings are made, voices break their weary silence, arms
content warning: lynching, police brutality A man was lynched today And like Strange Fruit He swung in the breeze But in the distance A low
Maple, skin, girl I hope your insides Tastes as sweet as the syrup I imagine. You were a symbol of lust, not love, Since the
“Endlessly” originally appeared in the 2019 contest issue of So to Speak. Content warning: mentions of abuse. Endlessly He isn’t going to answer, but
The police are not coming. My birth mother severely punished, Holt Korea protects my birth father still and shames me, “Your birth mother never called
“What does it mean to be like a rhizome? It means to be without roots, a deserted plant drifting in the desert. In Arabic, to
The streets of Oklahoma were pitch-dark, I thought the power was gone. How come these gringos don’t use light poles? I asked. Saturday at noon.
This is what war does— to women— makes them warriors— cuts their breasts stops the gushing of their wombs— changes their nails to bayonets— Their
