“I want / to cradle the figs, see how summer has / loosened their skins.” Visually narrative and profound, Annabel Li’s “Suburbia” is an ambitious yet subtle meditation on the longing for healing. Suburbia There is something about winterand the…
Welcome to LINE LEVEL: Craft Lessons from Poets of Color, a monthly column in which writer, editor, and educator Joanna Acevedo zooms in on an element of craft from the work of BIPOC poets. LINE LEVEL unfolds in three parts:…
“i mean, my kindred +spirits calling me +out of my nostrils +just when i could make a promise +to not go +down in the river with a sun +the yellow of my jaundice.” In this poignant poem, Martins Deep utilizes…
“My tongue / glistens I think it’s crying every tastebud / a tear duct every tooth a tuning fork” With the flute as a catalyst, Mickie Kennedy joins music and anatomy in this textured and striking poem. Embouchure I successfully…
“The heart, she seems to whisper, the heart never / stops marching. You are simply its feet.” In this visually rich and evocative poem, Vanessa Niu aptly turns the revolution into a long road trip across state lines as we…
In this poem, Chris Watkins utilizes religion, spirituality, and modernity to reclaim queerness with evocative language. Note from the author: “This poem employs queerphobic language. I am a a genderqueer poet and feel comfortable using/reclaiming the language as it is…
“When he handed them over, earrings dripping with teeth—the heavens / howled in protest & the silver tigers cried out.” Arya Vishin tactfully uses imagery inspired by the epic story, Mahabharat, to delve into the nuances of devotion. In the…
Welcome to LINE LEVEL: Craft Lessons from Poets of Color, a monthly column in which writer, editor, and educator Joanna Acevedo zooms in on an element of craft from the work of BIPOC poets. LINE LEVEL unfolds in three parts:…
“Some day, I realize, underwater archaeologists / will find, upon necropsy, the artifacts of my brief presence / in the stomach of the last Great White that entered the lagoon” Take a deep dive into the crystalline imagery of “Some…
“I said flesh / was a soft patch of wheat, a half-knotted rope. I said / rain was the unnamed radar sound in a dinosaur rib.” Shiyang Su zooms into a singular moment between the speaker and their father that…
