By Maurice Caldwell

 I was stabbed in prison.

I was stabbed in the head, neck, and chest.

I knew at that moment

That I could be killed 

At any time, on any day,

Without ever knowing it.

By Yash Seyedbagheri

Make something great again,

so something has to be taken away

more like someone

but America’s a trade-off right

so what do we redistribute?

By Abiola Regan

“So, where are you from?”

Breathe in, breathe out. 

And so it begins.

I suck in a deep breath to calm myself, 

quell my rising frustration. 

A seemingly innocuous curiosity that

quickly becomes insidious. An admonishment of my existence.

By Keith Holyoak 

Will the Mandate of Heaven remain with our illustrious sovereign?

In a lake of wine naked men and women
Drank as they swam to service
The king on his island

Before the axe came down the counselor said
Our enemies rejoice
They call you tyrant

By Halford H. Fairchild, Ph.D.

The problem of the world

     Is the problem of race

From London to L.A.,

     We see it every place.

DuBois said it best

     A century ago:

The color line is something

     That just has to go!

By Rick Swann

Hobbled by old injuries, I rarely go outside 

when it’s icy. This summer, too, with the pandemic 

raging I stay inside and leave marching 

in the streets to the young. When I was young 

I skated down our street, a dirt road where 

when the snowbanks that lined it melted then froze 

a perfect half-mile of ice formed.

COVID, George Floyd, Trump Aside

this is that glorious time of year,

just before it gets dry, when local cherry 

orchards used to flood outdoor roadside stands

but now the once modest real estate has become home

to concrete, glass and aluminum Silicon Valley behemoths

so we mostly obtain our Bings and Rainiers from Washington State.

By Cheryl L. Caesar, Ph.D.

How long, O Lord, how long must we endure

The evil-doer in the throne of power?

Your priests struck down and tear-gassed, to ensure

That he might wag a Bible for an hour?

How long, O Lord, must we stand by and see

The ass parading in the lion’s skin?

The helpless crushed beneath a heavy knee?

 The ruler’s shark-dead eyes and simian grin?

By John Grey 

As if George Floyd
never happened,

the face 
is like a grinning scythe
posturing 

& sprouting
for his brain-locked minions – 

I don’t see a cop
but some guy in a suit
with a blood-red tie,