THE SATANIC TEMPLE by Yusuf BM

Barely we own here“Here does not welcome us any longer”Mama purged out her shuddered voiceShrinking between her thighsAre verses of fear. “Who bears the sacrifice? The gods are ill”Father spread his dying palmsLike the morning spreading of a solitary palm tree under the advice of the wind. Here isn’t a home any longer;she’s become a…

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Lost Tongue by Violette Taylor

Spanish left our family tongue a fewgenerations ago, it was buriedwith my great-grandmother as shetried to make her children more palatable I feel it finding its way back to methrough the friends I meetand the music with a beatI can’t help but try to sing I can’t help but wonder what storieswill never get to…

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carnations by Miranda Magaña

somehowcarnations seem to find mesix feet below and behind me,in crystal vases,on the namesake of the streeton my skin,in the inkand now, in the granite stonewhere i never thoughtwe’d have to meet. Miranda Magaña is a self-taught artist born and raised in Oxnard, California. She graduated UCLA in 2021, majoring in Spanish and Portuguese &…

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Girls in our shrines by Zakiyyah Dzukogi

forgive our artthat’s yet to come,we are girlsfrom our shrines,like the flowerbefore God,we’ll beat drumsfor prayerson our hands—wake in the terraced house,the cost of our poetry isn’ta thousand note Zakiyyah Dzukogi is the author of Carved (a poetry collection); winner of the Nigeria Prize for Teen Authors, 2021, a prize she had earlier won the…

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Dis jOY Nt hIm by Winston TL

sob L.A. haze allays my heart hurt in a daze caused by a comet [Gone bye]             brain prays to malignant stars                 haywire Moon! align it? for me and him!?!                                      BLAH. AH AH. “I find you very attractive –   a good and sweet person       …

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7 cycles by Kamana Rai

1.  The glass of chrysanthemums —  my mother tells me,  cut the leaves off or  take out the leaves  from the stems with your hands.  गोदावरी – will stay fresh in a vase of water for weeks.  2.  If you look after anything well,  it will show signs of prospering.  In this sense,  relationships of…

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Concreted Words by Fadrian Bartley

The metal door slams constantlywith noisy keys jingled throughtiny holes. Behind the door of hadesheartbeats linger with despair,and held on to memories they once hadto catch the morning sun, Wretched state behind redemption,and sorrowful thought sitsbeside a bucket containtheir own uric acid. waited shamefully for expulsionof colon loose canal which stinks the air,Orange suits unable…

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Disguises by Christine Hsu

I’m going to be a luchador for Halloween this year.Is it cultural appropriation or not?I got this cool cat luchador mask in Mexico City on vacation.It’s black with blues trimming with whiskers and pointed ears.I was excited to see a Japanese wrestler in the ringTugging, tossing and tumbling around with the Mexican wrestlers.Ten years ago…

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Emmett Till by Jeffrey Caliedo

Jackson, Mississippi is two hours away from Money, and still, the soil can be heard weeping. Secluded and consumed by encroaching ivy fingers, the decomposing Bryant’s Market has become a sign of the times. A marker of the past. But there are bullet holes in his memorial. And the boy is still plummeting. The body…

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