The NY Literary Magazine

A Distinguished Selection of the Finest Modern Literature



Deutsch Blut (German Blood) Poem by Laura Saint Martin

My Northern skin cannot wear
this tropical complicity. Give me
a hundred names for snow,
Give me all the guilt
I never owned.

My sweat smells like Dachau,
even under Caribbean blooms, even
after I have thumbed it red. I wear
other cultures because mine is

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Oh USA What Happened to You? Poem by Druppels

What happened to you?
There was a time when you were an equivalent for freedom
Freedom to express whatever one believed
Showing respect for whatever one achieved.

By boat, by plane, or car taking route 66,
the land prospered due to a people’s mix.
It did not matter where one was born.
Now immigrants are greeted with shocking scorn,
tolerated to execute the dirty work in all visibility
but just not good enough to earn their legality.

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