Jason Irwin: Two Poems
the bejeweled pimp, flashing his Come to Daddy
devil’s grin, at the midwestern girl with stars
in her eyes whose just ridden for over thirty hours,
trying to escape her life
February 26, 2026 · 12 Comments
Desne A. Crossley: Rolling in the Aisle
In Nashville in 1950, my mother boarded a city bus. She didn’t go to the back. She didn’t act like her place was the outermost fringe of a world ruled by whites.
January 21, 2025 · 9 Comments
Barbara Hamby: The Tawdry Masks of Women
and when I see myself
in bus windows or store glass, the shock never wears off,
for I recognize myself and see a stranger at the same time
October 10, 2022 · 6 Comments
