A slim young girl, sitting cross-legged between
the glass doors in the condo entry way
as I was leaving for Pilates class.
I stood in the gap while the wheelchair-wide door closed
on slow hinges. As we do to keep ourselves safe
when a stranger sits in the entry way.
kate rogers | “Open Your Heart”
My readings of the poem have been stirring up controversy at poetry
readings in Ontario, Canada for six months.
It is only April and I’m about to surrender my summer, fall and winter
I don’t want to leave
Before the knots in my head untangle
Signpost and mirage
This spring lasts longer than others
Next one please show me
How to be myself again
jocelyn tan | “Exit”
joel tan | “Untitled”
she fell and thought someone had pushed her
and then wondered who picked her up.
the tallies formed their own tattoo, all blue
and black. rubbing them, she would coo
as (dad remembers this) her mother had taught
her, blessing each bruise with mommy loves you,
sayang sayang, cradling
her missing children.
crispin rodrigues | “The Long Passing”
I initially had plans to follow a traditional sonnet structure with a strict Shakespearean sonnet rhyme scheme and volta, but the desire to tell my grandmother's story outweighed the need to adhere to form.
As the lute player turned
was he stood alone?
with love and squalor
not yet written
was it he who laid
the palace cornerstone?
marcus slingsby | “Under Veined Marble Linoleum There’s A Wishing Well”
ying lee | “[These 183,000 books]”
This poem is a contextualized erasure based on the first page of my novel that was stolen to train AI—I was too angry to submit it anywhere at first, and then I missed my moment.
