Latest Writing
POETRY
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TWO POEMS by Tyree Daye
SAME OAKS, SAME YEAR My cousin kept me and his little brother saved me from our uncle’s pit bull, then spent seven years in prison for his set. Every other word he said was blood.
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HURT MUSIC by Melissa Cundieff-Pexa
The bell’s emptied space has no name. I would like to call it my never-born. I’m there and the metal clapper and bowl are asleep. My never-born is awake, very quiet. I don’t want to reach for him. I don’t want to fall from the rope’s fray or draw nothing from the naming. I call,…
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TWO POEMS by Hannah Dela Cruz Abrams
LETTER IN EXCHANGE FOR Painting all the spines of the books blue, for example. Tasting me so absolutely as to know the monsoon of my sickness. Licking my lips clean of disturbance while hunting for the trees I want at every window, that wanton green. What if, in reciprocation, you gave me every song you…
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