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STORY OF THE WEEK
By Lauren Markham
Jesse told me once how other men sometimes squirreled away nuggets of gold from the job. Not long after, they strung up Mick Holdsby for pocketing a hunk and taking it home.
POEM OF THE WEEK
By Ellen Bass
For my task is to praise all I don’t understand. For there are more sexes than wildflowers. For the eye of the male and the eye of the female is the same eye, the same dark well of the pupil.
30 POEMS TO STIR THE HEART
No One Knows the Way to Heaven
By Ocean Vuong
But we keep walking anyway. Well here’s the world, sweetheart. One little word as small & large as a father.
By Geoff Dyer
He took off his jacket. She looked at the barroom tattoos on his arm, looking at him differently now, searching for the source of the music.
By William Brewer
The legend where our eyes are made of light, the heart an empire—I can’t remember it.
Sonoran Song and Other Poems
By Javier Zamora
You couldn’t have known this could happen, Mom. You couldn’t have. No es su culpa.
Lancaster General Hospital and
By Monica Sok
Sing us a song about an immigrant love your family couldn’t accept.
By Richard Bausch
The old nurse, as Freddie called her, was always so prone to panic about things. But there had been something else in her shaking voice, that cigarette-thick voice.
Certain Friends for Certain Secrets
By Ann Beattie
Because Wyatt was so inscrutable, he might have lied to me. It might have suited his purposes, whatever they were, to create some drama where there wasn’t any.
How to Lose Everything in Twelve Easy Steps
By Alethea Black
Your boyfriend thinks becoming your own doctor is a very, very bad idea. “That’s what everyone thinks, until this happens to them.”
By Robert Olen Butler
I could not bear to see her play at being the woman she once was. I’d rescued that woman from the Place Pigalle and made her my model. I’d redeemed her nakedness with my art.
By Susan Minot
Next to some cold crimson chrysanthemums was a poster with the cut-out letters of a ransom note:
I am here because I am scared for my country.
By Tina Nettesheim
It took Tess a month to apply for assistance because being pregnant made her fall asleep all the time and school was all she could handle.
By Joyce Carol Oates
Of course they knew where Dawn was headed: Depot Street. They knew, and had outsmarted her, and now it was too late for her to run from them for they were upon her.
By Gina Ochsner
The girls were looking beyond the blackberry bushes that climbed the siding and spooled like steel wool around the farmhouse. They were looking for their mothers.
By Nathan Poole
He soon found himself envious of her, and then obsessed, her strong sense of purpose, her motives. He had come under her influence and felt as though he had been poisoned with lust.
By Austin Smith
No one in town would take him for a Trappist monk with vows of chastity, just as, in the abbey, no one took him for a lapsed bohemian who played jazz records and danced naked.
With Min Jin Lee
Q: What book do you wish you could read again for the first time?
A: Reading Turgenev
by William Trevor. I have never seen yearning dramatized so perfectly.
with Will Schwalbe
Q: What’s your current obsession?
A: I saw a T-shirt that said, “My thoughts have been replaced by
lyrics.” That describes me.
By Rick Bass
It was interesting, watching the pleasure the visitors took in executing the ancient act of bringing meat to camp. I could see them changing. There was less banter and more of a quiet pride.
By Hal Crowther
A tough cookie, this warrior-priest, who talked about his eleven-plus years in prisons the way scholars talk about graduate school.
My Whole Entire Life
By Richard Smith
Amex ended up canceling my card. When they said they were coming after my personal property I sued them, in part to prevent them from seeing that I hardly had any.
Love Song to the Man Announcing Powwows and Rodeos
By Kenzie Allen
How your voice over salted flanks licks tender, and when you name the horses booms low.
Praying Naked and Other Poems
By Katie Condon
It wasn’t guilt I felt. Maybe it was loneliness. Maybe it was my own desire to be desired, since, if a man wants me, I know I have at least a little worth left.
Stigmata of Love and Other Poems
By Federico García Lorca
In the sweet booth made of wood, your voice rained on the dune inside my chest. South, at my feet, it was spring, and north, at my brow, flowering fern.
A Theory and
By Amy Meng
When you’re beautiful they treat you like you’re visible. Their eyes are quiet as yellow darts of dandelion in grass.
The Land of
By Faisal Mohyuddin
In Urdu, the clock tower is called Ghanta Ghar, meaning Hour House, which sounds just like
However, nothing of it is ours.
Io and Other Poems
By Paisley Rekdal
Every day, she pretends to understand what is happening to her body, what has happened to her daughter, but there is no understanding this.
& Bless: Poems
By Mara Adamitz Scrupe
I’m afraid to say anything or nothing I’m white & unalterably broken
there’s a yellow line down between us an American bison’s roil & maul.
Nina Simone Explains Delusions to John Roberts
By Christian Teresi
We were each once innocent—without the protection of our lies.
Prayer on the Subdivision
By Marcus Wicker
The tender kin who invented that adage about good fences must have been black & living in a cul-de-sac trying to mend an unbreachable wall.
In New York
By Kristina Bicher
It’s raining concrete. I bite down on my grief wetly. Who will test these chains?
By Nicole Cooley
We’re phosphorus, we’re this glowing rock under UV light in the mineral shed.
By Jenny George
The horse had been beaten and flies crawled excited on the beat marks.
By Kit Smyth Basquin
Throughout the city the sorrowful chants were answered in staggered repetition, like fugues.
Naval Air Station Oceana, Virginia
By T. G. Hardy
I heard about the jet crash as I was leaving the Officer Quarters for the hangar.
Transcontinental Road Trip
By Dell Kaniper
Try as I might to transpose the idea of dealer and entrepreneur, I failed.
By Jane Lancellotti
There was no way of knowing how many would answer the call to march in Washington, DC, on the Saturday after the inauguration.
Beyond the Glass Ceiling There’s Sky
By Various Authors
Here, in tribute to women’s commitment to breaking the glass ceiling, we’ve drawn together some keenly representative passages in the evolving dialogue between the feminine and masculine.
By Michael Ricciardelli
In the tradition of Hemingway, a six-word story that conjures an entire world.
Cartoon Art Volume 2017-04
By Various Artists
Great new toons by Pat Byrnes,
Duffy, Farley Katz, Amy Kurzweil, and Mary Lawton.
Cartoon Art Volume 2017-03
By Various Artists
New art and humor from Charlie Hankin, Amy Kurzweil, Drew Panckeri, Julia Suits, and
Cartoon Art Volume 2017-02
By Various Artists
Absurd and hilarious cartoons by Pat Byrnes, Glen Le Lievre, Ken Krimstein, Amy Kurzweil, and Victoria Roberts.