Portfolio: Poems about race

Diaspora By Leon Barros Salterns harvest the ocean Don’t you know all Filipinos pray facing Manila is barren Nothing grows there anymore It is tradition to salt cities asphyxiate soil make sure you can never come back I smell brimstone from 3,000 miles away The sun rises in the west
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A hairy situation

Sex on Tuesday

Thanks to my Persian and Greek genes, I have body hair that’s especially thick on my arms and legs. Kids in grade school used to call me “Gorilla.” I got teased so much that I started hair removal at a pretty young age. To this day, I wax my arms
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