Homemaking // Trespassing // To the Coosa River at Powell’s Hideaway Trailer Park // A Clear View // Not Most // Tina Mozelle Braziel

“Like an outboard whining its away across your slough, / then

settling into an idle hum beside its pier, I linger, / / wanting to

hear your whisper hushing the trailers and me. . .”

—To the Coosa River at Powell’s Hideaway Trailer Park

Concave // Wi-fi in Orphanage // Hussain Ahmed

“the position of the sun dictates how tall shadows grow. / the

phone rings every night as would a lonely heart. / it could be

my mother calling to ask if I had died in sleep. / it could be her,

asking if I am grown enough to wear bras. . .”

—Wi-fi in Orphanage

Desmadre // Dry/Spell // Brandon Melendez

“Maybe the voyage ends with my mouth / open. The last relic of

la patria settling on my tongue / for a moment, then dissolving

into the water. . .”

—Desmadre

Precious // Benjamin Alfaro

“Sometimes the words stack like bricks / on the page. The poem,

turned sideways, / becomes it’s imagined skyline. / A city of

shapes. The poem, a shelter. That which cannot strike you back. . .”

The Witness // Syria, 2016 // Alene Terzian

“He is afraid of the holes in basements, / big enough to fit a

barrel through; he knows / it is easy to be a sniper’s target, as

easy / as stepping into a pothole, twisting a knee. . .”

—The Witness

untranslated // airport sutra // Scherezade Siobhan

“a lake, a look. a lack that measures gravity’s coda. pilfered

light & the bed-linen in its / own swollen glow. by the books,

pear blossoms & a bottle aged out of its messes. . .”

—untranslated

Country of Origin // Phuong T. Vuong

“an ocean is a stream of water / water you float in / is the

country you belong to / salts and tans you / marks citizen

glowing brown. . .”