Stories
Poetry Contest Winners
Death is a lack, I suppose, and love more so. But I will not falter.
Poem of the Week
They taught us do not touch it, but who can keep from touching it?
Poem of the Week
…when you walk to the edge of the Mekong and make a wish…
Nonfiction
Art touches the soul and moves life in ways that commerce cannot.
E. L. Doctorow noted that writers seem to get business ideas almost right.
Story of the Week
From the flight deck Gray could see home, wherever that might be.
Winter Contest Winners
He guessed it was the worst thing he had ever seen or maybe ever would.
Poem of the Week
You walk and the world bends toward you like leaves waiting for rain.
Poem of the Week
The towns died as quickly as a single house, a house like ours, lit gold within.
Interviews
The excuse, of course, was that men had to support families.
Poem of the Week
I’m mourning in the armpits of a lover we once called a family friend.
Poem of the Week
We will use my entire bed and all my dishes, make dirty each chair.
Story of the Week
Since his mother’s fall, Ali had been stopping by every week to help out.
Short Shorts
So, Ida, are you a Jew or a nudist? Do you believe in Hanukkah?
Poem of the Week
We’ve seen the news. We know the story. How even our bodies hurt us.
Poetry
The hound, the leash, the fence, the hens. So many of them.
Poem of the Week
I’m happy in the unmapped landscape inside the bottle.
Poem of the Week
My relationship with god resembled that of a prisoner and firing squad.
Poem of the Week
This is the day when the saints all go silently to church in France.
Fiction
Why did it take Steven’s small coffin to get me to see my own son?
Story of the Week
Devanand Simon was twenty-five when the bodies fell from the sky.
N30B Winners
When you are sixteen and sixty-five pounds, you are all shadows.
Fiction
Everything they needed was there. Everything they needed, they had.
Story of the Week
The old man drinks some more liquor and whacks down two trees.
Story of the Week
Go came up with the idea that all things were part of a good conspiracy.
Story of the Week
I was thinking sex, she was thinking sex, but neither of us made a move.
Poem of the Week
Snows piling in his crying mouth. Cold gave him a light complexion.
Narrative Outloud
You can go from one town square
to another and never fall in love.
Narrative Outloud
We need the opportunity to dance with really exquisite strangers.
