Category: The Last Word

Writers getting the last word. HFR is invested in elevating art by marginalized groups with this feature.

Three Poems by Paul Chuks

Self-Portrait with Less Anxieties Lord, I want to be Hollywood-cool.That young boy whose father ownsA company—and wills it over toHim at twenty-one.Once—I needed bread—I went to theBlock industry to mold some.Two coins they paid me—finishedafter the economy swallowed itduring my lunch time. Thenext day—I took a knife to mythroat in mistaking myself amartyr for capitalism.…
Two Poems by Anthony Robinson

Failures of the Poets Wyatt couldn’t keep count of his “numbrous vers”And when I mentioned this, a user said, “pronounced properly,They scan perfectly.” They do not, but as a rule,I’ve stopped arguing with old men. The shaggy poems,Derived from an old Italian, have their mincing charms,And for this he did not deserve hanging, nor beheading.It’s unfortunate…
Two Poems by Laura Minor

Big Dick, Small Town I Love You, Now Show Me Your Tits And just like that, the house of whores— If Sunday was a man, he’d be good, becomes the scourge of wooden hours— some digital acquaintance, a high, friend, superior, colleague, or mentor ruefully horny, delusional on their own back roads…
Essay: “The Box” by Diana Whitney

The box was waiting on my porch when I came home from acupuncture. Cardboard, square, criss-crossed with blue tape, big enough to fit a toaster or a cat. A stranger had sent me a package in the mail. I do not know this man, although he’d written my name and address in sharpie and his…
“Leaver,” a poem by Audrey King

of glasseson airplanes; papersat home; socks at the baseof beds; of cell phonesupstairs; of voicemails: hi honey,where the hell are you; of planets and bodiesand families and wives. When it tookto your body, grabbed hold; anchored;plummeted; ultimately surrendered the morphineonto you, did you strike? I imaginea stunned crow; talons chainedclose on your chest. But I…
“letters that linger,” a poem by Jen Schneider

of the moments.memories.meanderings a. the sound of silenceb. the taste of quietc. the feeling of safetyd. the color of warmthe. the flavor of peace that could have pressed, stamped, stomped, even tattooed themselves in inks (blue.black.red) & palettes (pink.yellow.green) on concealed palms, at the midnight hour, of rays of sun / grains of sand /…
“The Snowy Owl,” a poem by Tara Campbell

The snowy owl said to the sad little girlI can send more love your way;the snowy owl said to the lonely girlI can give you a reason to play. The snowy owl said to the nervous young womanI can solve your problems, dear;the snowy owl said to the fearful young womanI can sweep your worries…
Six Poems by milagro moreno

Forgery in a Red DressAfter Safia Elhillo i forge a dark purple down the curve of my lip a river my tongue crosses a lisp that bobs for breath i forge a blue wing above the fat of my eyes a checkpoint i cross blind i want to believe if i forge a blade down…
Terri Drake: Five Poems

Legend She offered her bodyas the world’s terrain.The smooth skin and the scars. She closed the curtainsand put a finger to her lips. She baked breadso we wouldn’t have to live on air. She made of the earth a giftand placed it at our feet. She sent out the dogs as sentinels.They came home to…