Poem

From the magazine:Doggerel

By Tomás Q. Morín
If I have one chance 
to write to you like Chance 
the Rapper or Mac Miller 
then I wish I had a tiny desk 
with a band behind me 
decked out, low tech, 
like the Delfonics 
or a gospel choir 
singing higher, higher 
as I say these lines for you, 
with you, like a bus full of us 
smiling when I tell you 
that I love you 
like an orange cat
saying…
Poem

From the magazine:Fighting Weight

By Tomás Q. Morín
The first thing I typed was, “Stretching is serious business”
but I knew right away Lance would never…
Poem

From the magazine:Enter Genetics

By Dalia Taha
Translated By Sara Elkamel
It took the world 197,000 years to make me. 

My dna formed leisurely across centuries,
like a slow-cooked…
Poem

From the magazine:Enter Shadows

By Dalia Taha
Translated By Sara Elkamel
Then I saw the shadow 
of the massive cypress tree
split the queue of cars in two. 

How can a neighborhood be as narrow 
as Ramallah al-Tahta?
How can one tree’s shadow 
be as vast as a border cleaving countries?

How can night and day lie together on one street 
like husband and wife—
how can poems and people 
share one sheet?

By this afternoon…

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