Stagnant Blackness and the Modern Race Drama

  Literary Editor Chris Prioleau has an essay up on The Awl this week: It feels as if, where the modern race drama is concerned, we’re not as firmly central in our own stories as one might think. These stories are still coming from the same set of antiquated notions that wrote Hattie McDaniel’s speech for her, notions that dictate that a dramatic non-white narrative is only successful in so far as it speaks to the good-intentioned but ultimately reductive theme of racial progress, which in this case is a euphemism for proving one’s worth to the white population. Read the rest here.

Undocupoets Petition Against Contest Discrimination

We are proud to publish a petition from Undocupoets, the group fighting to end citizenship-based discrimination in poetry publishing and contests.  Too often, the submission guidelines read “Proof of US Citizenship” or “Legal Residents Only.” This small, but powerful, statement serves to exclude 11.7 million undocumented people (according to the Pew Research Center Hispanic Trends Project in 2013) from participating in a multitude of poetry opportunities—from first book contests to applying for major grants. Most documented poets and organizers justify this discrimination by saying something along the lines of “large poetry organizations cannot include undocumented people because they (the large poetry organizations) receive government funding and must follow government regulations.” But this should be no excuse for exclusion. We must strive, as a poetry community, to allow ALL of our comrades the same opportunities that documented poets are afforded. No poet should have their opportunities limited because of their immigration status! What we are asking for is simple—give us the best poems (regardless of the author’s citizenship)! It should be the duty of poetry organizations to find ways to support poets, not to mimic the nation state. The immediate action which we would like to see take place, is this:...
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Share This, Please, by Juan Carlos Rincón Escalante

  Share this, Please Juan Carlos Rincón Escalante   “And so….” He typed. “Goodbye.” “So long.” He paused, contemplating the screen. He read the whole thing. “Farewell.” He pushed the blue publish button. His profile picture appeared next to the letter. He read it again. It was good. The warmth of satisfaction took over him. He put his phone in his pocket, wondering if it would break badly with the fall. That thought entertained him. As if the phone were the most important thing on the verge of breaking. Or was it? He chased that question away as he walked towards the edge. The sky was clean and lonely. The night made his nose drip. He regretted not wearing his scarf, but, then again, regret had always been useless. He stopped when there was no more room to continue. The city lights blinked at him, indifferent to his pain. Their beauty, he thought, as all beauty tends to be, was numb. A rush of thoughts flooded his mind, but they were all passers-by, none staying or changing anything. He was ready to surrender to the darkness. But then, one thought stuck. He laughed a little and backed away. He had...
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