POOR Magazine
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Revolutionary Journalism, poetry, & prose on issues of poverty, racism, disability, in/migration, border fascism, incarceration, welfare (de)form, profiling, indigenous resistance, art, media, and more by the folks who experience these struggles first-hand. |
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(POOR Magazine -The print edition- Is currently out of print due to lack of funding. Some copies of Volume #4: MOTHERS still available by mail order. Contact deeandtiny@poormagazine.org) Blogs and Journalizm by Poverty Skolaz locally and globally linked below: |
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Open Letter to the President
Dear President Donald Trump.
Did you know that you will go down in history as a Mad President?
Scamlord Story- Sharena Diamond Thomas
My name is Sharena Diamond Thomas, and I'm informing everybody of what's going on in my neck of the woods, East Oakland. I'm dealing with a slum lord.
From Eviction to Homelessness
The Silent yet deadly elder & child abuse of Eviction and cause of homelessness
The Sacred Mauna Kea Needs Your Help
Take Action for Mauna A Wākea!!! Please let them know they need to Divest from Desecration!!!!
Joint statement against the incarceration "detention" and raids on Indigenous Refugees from Central and Southern Turtle Island and all of Mama Earth
Hit Me Bruh! Thoughts on the Last Black Man in San Francisco
Hit me with something real. Hit me with what I am. Hit me with my pent up rage. Hit me with everything that’s been taken from you, me, us—our city. Last black man, first black man, and all black men in between; hit me in the solar nexus, the crossroads, the migration, the displacement, the toxicity—I want it all, I want it all back. Last Black Man in San Francisco, a pause in the sound of the heartbeat of two young black men, a pause that expands and captures the history of a people—the black community of San Francisco—in all its l
Mans Skool Blues
Man-Skool Blues
The Green Planet
Final paper by Kimo Umu.
P.O.C.
Final paper for Decolonized English class by Ziair Hughes
Presence, Prayer & Procession of the Housed for the Unhoused
As I looked up at a bus stop on my route home, I recall thinking about the choice I had in that moment to show up or plead exhaustion and go home. Home. I have a home. The irony that I was choosing between going back to the comfort of my house or to a rally explicitly for the housed to show up for the unhoused is more obvious to me now.
