Sunday Best he blows dandelions for his babies in the corner store parking lotin their Sunday best, following this morning's sermontheir wishes scatter across the...

They Send Me to the City to Stay with My Auntie I hang my jacket in the hallwayher apartment is oldmade from shoestring potatoesit smells...

Your Ghost Lights Me I know that you do In the afternoon Under a warm blanket Sun on the couch. I feel it Honey in my vertebrae Pulled out of my...

Sky perfect dull gray intermittent spits of rain not cold or warm and just enough wind to get inside a jacket and I have nothing to do and all the...

Mary Saludares, a gifted young member of Washington D.C.'s dance community, died on February 20th, 2009. She was 20 years old. She passed after being struck by a car while on tour in Baltimore as a member of the Washington Ballet Studio Company.

These poems are part of a special section of the Mid-Atlantic Review, Celebrating Black History, and selected by editors Khadijah Ali-Coleman, Carolivia Herron, and...

AgingFrom construction paperlayered in pipe cleaners,uncooked noodlesand cotton balls;to cardstock trimmedfor business cards,in neat stacksor sweaty palms;to printer papertaken from the officefor a pile...

Over the last ten years I’ve made two kinds of art: paintings and site-specific wall drawings. Both use layers of marks and geometric structure inspired...

Island She would cry every time we put her in the carriage. That was all right, and the way I had to lean sideways to...