If you ask me: who are you?/I would reply: I am the man/Covered all over with tattoos of pain/With a body riddled with holes/With teeth fused together/I am the map of a country sold..Poem by Ogundare Tope.
A soft rotten blanket occupies the empty spaces/opportunities lost in time/a burning path behind/There is no going back. Poetry by Cristina Bresser de Campos.
‘hey’ one guy would yell ‘you know what PC stands for?/it means Pussy-whipped Cunt-licker’/that bunch was full of laughs” says Hitler. “but that’s beside the point.” Poetry by Dick Lourie in the aftermath that is Trump.
Language of conditions/of conjunctions. Poetry by Sukrita Paul Kumar.
With long thick hair/waves of fulfilled desires/wishes in tangles of/a hundred beards/A living monument/Young with passion. Poetry by Sukrita Paul Kumar.