Opioid
By Bob Carr
A top shelf bourbon
a fused stack of spine
the Vicodin sticks
in my throat going down
on my back I listen
death speaks to the child of the immigrant
By Adam Hamze
did your mother & father
really think that leaving
would keep you safe, from me
how foolish of them to think
i can’t drain the light
A Song For My Father
By Jordan Hartt
firelights of the burning mosque the Christians in their green t-shirts eyes and foreheads flickering with light brown bandannas green bandannas the smell of oil and