A rodman at the far end. A transitman behind. She has them where she wants them, too far apart for brainless prattle, the joking at her expense. She works her way forward, toward the red…
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Two Poems from Liz Lampman
Spell for Burning Gender with a line from Elizabeth Bishop Call on the moon: illuminate! For night recalls the ache of barely kindled flame and I the sweat in which our bodies met— the…
Two Poems from Sean Cho A.
Dress Up The men in my family tell me American girls love American boys in the dark. I asked my grandfather how to dress. He wasn’t sure what “American boys” wore so he dressed me…