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Ivana Bodrožić (translated from the Croatian by Damir Šodan)
Jazz hid itself somewhere, it rustled its brushes cautiously, before all those christs and crosses, before all the loud sons and fathers

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Desiree C. Bailey
I am I    but I won’t spill my name not here on this damned rock    pushed out bloody from the bowels of the sea        marketplace island where the cloud’s crest    and birdsong all for sale

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C. Dale Young
Some men go down to the river. I went down, instead, to the lake: the air silent and stretched tightly over it, the water unmoved and dangerously still. Some men move past such a scene without even the slightest notice of it.

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Vaan Nguyen (translated from the Hebrew by Adriana X. Jacobs)
He won’t ride a shod animal. He prefers to trouble his head to stand by the road unkempt under a tree waiting how he will outlive me like a quotation.

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Sean Shearer
There were woods behind my house                       scattered with berries I couldn’t digest. I’d curl on top of the dirt                 hugging the knot inside my belly and now                                                I’m in bed kissing a pale green vein as I listen to his voice like a knife with its scar—                                                                            six birds stretched across a fret board.

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Tiana Nobile
Of an animal, especially a bird. A wandering species whom no seas nor places limit. A seed who survives despite the depths of hard winter. The ripple of a herring steering her band from icy seas to warmer strands.

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Donald Revell
My mother's name was Doris, A Greek unknown to her. Hidden Among the wild herbs in their patterns Are first things, and first things never die. To them, the afterlife is a memory.

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Benjamín Naka-Hasebe Kingsley
                as every thing begins        with the heart        beat of horses a tribe        the thudded color        of all creation                 my people gather        brindle        as if the night were drizzled long        across their backs        she                 of sickle sword        of tendon & tusk

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Maria Stepanova (translated from the Russian by Sasha Dugdale)
they travelled a long time longlongtime dumbstruck stillstanding trees not-earth and earth pressed close builder's yards    morgues    fly-tips

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Diamond Forde
fat girl nicks herself shaving in the shower, resents the water that will carry her blood to sea. Blood, worthless currency, cannot buy a country but becomes it, platelets stitching into streets. fat girl weeps for the blood that won't return—

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