By Mariana Llanos
Invisible children fall through the cracks of the system like Alice in the rabbit hole. But these children...
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- By Cedar SigoHow to fall asleep easily on the beach, to dig clams, to dream a net made of nettles, a medicine of ...
- By Tanaya WinderWake up, greet the sun, and pray. Burn cedar, sweet grass, sage— sacred herbs to honor the lives we’...
- By Tanaya WinderSummers meant sticking my arm out the back of a rez car. No other windows rolled down. Consequences ...
- By Suma SubramaniamYou cannot pronounce my name. “Soor-ya.” Not “soar.” Surya—the sun god. Mom always tells me that a smile...
- By Heid E. ErdrichWhen a whole being births into your hands still you see your hands no matter how unworldly the beauty...
- By Suma SubramaniamI come from a country so far away that you may have visited only in your dreams. My face does not bear...
- By Ari TisonMy dad used to call me Eagle Eyes. I was the one to find eagles, owls, blue jays on a dark day. He called...
- By Mahogany L. BrowneThere is no room on this planet for anything less than a miracle We gather here today to revel in the...
- By Mariana Llanosour children in the line of fire scrambling for their lives while we dreamily polish our guns reminders...
- By Dawn QuigleyTheir memory, do not let it lie fallow On the blue earth banks Which caught the 38 tears As they spilled...
- By Mariana LlanosWar War Motive War Marvel War Mother War Martyr War Mourning War Money War Monger War Murder War Monster...
- By Kim StaffordBecause they were rich and clever, all the ambassadors designed an echo chamber of glass and platitudes...
- By Nathalie HandalShe told me, Mama, I want to see the world. I told her, Go. When she returned she said: I saw barefoot...
- By Kim StaffordThe design committee for making the world had stalled with the problem of drought. “We have the sea ...
- By Nathalie HandalI’d like to be a shrine, so I can learn from peoples’ prayers the story of hearts. I’d like to be a ...
- By Chen ChenYou are the ice cream sandwich connoisseur of your generation. Blessed are your floral shorteralls, ...
- By Mosab Abu Tohai When you open my ear, touch it gently. My mother’s voice lingers somewhere inside. Her voice is the...
- By Chen ChenSee the stars nightly disobeying the night. Watch the pattering rain sketch an anarchist’s map to the...
- By Dawn QuigleyLangston, we too, sing Turtle Island. We are the 574 Nations. They want to hide us In the past tense...