Our America

A letter, by Savannah Campbell

Dear Mr. President,

Need I remind you that without immigration, you would not be who you are?

Need I remind you that an immigrant carried you for nine months and an immigrant did the same for a child of yours?

It doesn’t make sense unless it’s not about immigration, but the color of those immigrants.

Is it brown people who scare you?

As if this country wasn’t built on the backs of brown people.

Slaves. Immigrants. We all come from one or another. Continue reading

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Miscue Analysis

A poem by Professor Jennifer Martin

Why is this so difficult for you,

my sweet seven-year-old?

Why can’t you step into books

like your brother and sister

and get lost for hours?

(Comparison: A parent’s dirty secret.)

What is holding you back?

 

Why is b still d, and d still b,

even though your father and I have

made bed posts and pillows out of our fingers

for you to learn the difference? Continue reading

Depression Hurts

A poem by Joshua Sponaugle

They say depression hurts… but do they tell you that it takes a razor to your torso and head, filleting memories and feelings. That it kidnaps you from your family and friends and tortures you, even while they are plainly with you.

It tells you you’re unlovable. It knows you want the pain to stop, and offers you awful advice, the most awful.

F*ck the glory days and rights of men from God, I just want to smell a freshly picked daisy again, and to bask in the vivid, beautiful mundanities that we’ve put out of mind. I too have forgotten, but I want to remember. I need Continue reading