Authors

Nonfiction

Our visions of the world fade like the morning star, lost in the light of day.

Story of the Week

I don’t know who he wants to be, and it’s not because I haven’t asked.

Story of the Week

In medical school they forgot to tell me about caring and feeling.

iPoems

For who can escape one’s twenties or browser history?

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Poem of the Week

She’s coming back, her arms full of the flowers I gave her once a year.

Story of the Week

Lorenzo and me, we’d squat our own building. It was the new frontier.

Poetry

It is music opening and closing, Italia mia, on Bleecker, ciao, Antonio.

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Poetry Contest Winners

Death is a lack, I suppose, and love more so. But I will not falter.

Poetry

What I really meant to say is that I am tired. Beauty can demand so much.

Poem of the Week

By Wednesday morning I’d fallen in love with someone else.

Poetry

God was surrounding the chair, leaves flourishing from a sickly tree.

Poem of the Week

We fed our dreams inevitable sins, the kind you lie about till you grow mean.

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Story of the Week

In your postpartum state, your best hope is to bluff your way through.

Graphic Stories

Joanna Walsh

Graphic Stories

In search of the life we all agree is so desirable—art, romance, freedom!

Graphic Stories

Joanna Walsh

Graphic Stories

Joanna Walsh

Story of the Week

Your bookself will appear to find you trivial, its nose deep in some tome.

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Poetry

All the bears in the zoo look pathetic. Their eyes glazed, bodies lethargic.

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Poem of the Week

Euclid stands in front of his lover’s door, open to the last hours of light.

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Poetry

“Leaving for war, Hayes wept. He didn’t just cry; he wept...”

Poetry

She regarded the world calmly without the filter of her suffering.

Poem of the Week

Your image is on my credit card, you and the old red, white, and blue.

Poem of the Week

He hadn’t meant to hurt her. Drowning people will do anything for air.

Narrative By Hand

Up north people hunt bears using gummy bears as bait.

Poem of the Week

Tears sometimes come in a bottle. Open and apply several times daily.

Poem of the Week

The purpose of all rules of piety is to extend revelation into ordinary life.

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Fiction

The barman emanated paranoia, the male customers sat introspecting.

Story of the Week

In chess as in love, openings could be only so original. But this was uncanny.

Poetry Contest Winners

Rays burst from behind the mountain, sweep the broad beach.

Poem of the Week

& I said let there be dark pouring from your mouth at daybreak

Poetry

A man drunk on the damage he made to a boy’s young mouth.

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Fiction

Stopping it, Cye knows, is like stopping a tsunami with a tennis racket.

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Story of the Week

Miss Moses smiled, I could take you, buster. Don’t try anything with me.

Story of the Week

I was under a spell, those days. I had been ever since I’d first seen her.

Story of the Week

The window washer smiles a little and licks his lips. Nadine smiles back.

Story of the Week

Definitely believe what you hear about the problems with painkillers.

Poetry

He loves me. That’s half enough: he’s the only man around.

iPoems

She sits in her wax like a candle. A woman comes, a woman goes.

iPoems

Everything white is a white spider. The spider spins regardless of color.

Poem of the Week

I should look at what I’ve done. How loosely she let him come to me.

Poetry

The pupils are toothpicks. The lake is a sky with a circle beneath.

Poem of the Week

I live for now in the second house of having asked a favor from a friend.

Poetry

I walked that land with him, one and mingling, breaking into breath.

Poetry

I try to believe that even when cords are cut or people die we connect.

iPoems

You have your apron on under your coat. We’ve got each other.

Poem of the Week

You move rocks, run water, check the path of mouse and rabbit.

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Poem of the Week

I lean I stumble toward you hoping you’ve not turned away yet.

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iPoems

Wang Wei

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Fiction

Third Place

Fiction

He’s gonna change the way we farm around here. Make it more like India.

Poetry

Royal baby George is tucked in the crook of his mother’s elbow.

Poem of the Week

The attendant instructs remember, immerse three times.

Story of the Week

Bad luck, like the white-scabs disease, can infect others.

Story of the Week

We agreed: no hearts, no flowers, just courteous, no-strings sex.

Poetry

Small valleys and veins give way to a lifted ridge like a rib or an arm bone.

Poem of the Week

The citizens of Aunay believed Pierre Rivière batshit, dimwitted.

Story of the Week

One felt all the poor lady’s barriers were falling save her manner.

Story of the Week

Mrs. Ballinger is one of the ladies who pursue Culture in bands.

Story of the Week

It had taken Thursdale seven years to form this fine talent.

Story of the Week

I became a symbol of freedom, a miracle who had escaped the Devil.

Story of the Week

His flannel sleeve dangled into the flame. Pretty soon, I was on fire too.

Story of the Week

I felt that Teddy occupied a range below acceptability, even among boys.

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Story of the Week

This is a place where young girls are butchered in old-time songs.

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Six-Word Stories

Kay Whitaker

Poem of the Week

Will you bless us, who are so in need of blessing? The world tires.

Story of the Week

You’re safe here. A prison might be the safest place to meet a man.

Poem of the Week

I reach in, blind hand finds what I’ve already seen, only one front foot.

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Story of the Week

I saw it on her face that day, a look like her heart would drift into the sky.

Poem of the Week

Bees kill wasps by gathering around and tightening in the middle.

Poetry

Song where a house becomes a dandelion in a puff of savage wind.

Poem of the Week

Have two children to keep around the house in case one goes missing.

Poem of the Week

I decide it’s as good a place as any to stop, pant & smell the roses—

iPoems

To get the job, always stay starched, creased to death.

Poetry

Then I graduate to a four-digit mortgage inside an ornate gate.

Story of the Week

If you hear your name again just say, Here I am. Maybe it’s the Lord.

Poetry Editor's Note

Michael Wiegers

Poetry Editor's Note

The act of poetry most often begins and ends in  solitude.

Poem of the Week

All the woods are alive with the murmur and sound of Spring.

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Story of the Week

“The secret to happiness is not wanting,” Lars told the Buddha.

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Short Shorts

He doesn’t have to lie about oatmeal. That’s the way things are for him.

Fiction

Just some wine, Ellie told herself. Just to prove she wasn’t chicken.

Fiction

He was caught. Of course he was caught. He was always caught.

Fiction

It lay slumped where they’d dragged it, a fright of an animal.

Story of the Week

“It means,” Stoner said again, and could not finish what he had begun.

Story of the Week

I looked up how much everything would cost. Giving birth: $9,000.

Poetry Contest Winners

When I dream of lovers, I rarely see faces. It’s better if we never touch.

Poem of the Week

Play hero, sunburned protagonist, awake in our dream.

Narrative Outloud

Sue Williams tells a pitch-perfect story outloud, about devotion.

Narrative Outloud

We’d open our mouths and sink, trying to make an ocean of ourselves.

Narrative Outloud

The moths were the things that invaded, like a bad man’s touch.

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Classics

I lost myself in their minds: for the moment I actually became them.

Poem of the Week

The blackbirds in the rain upon the dead topbranches notate the dawn.

iPoems

Afterward, it was nature that was blind, and she who was wild.

Short Shorts

It’s like his bottom half is not man but a strong horse.

First-Person Winners

Dad was blind until six months ago, when he bumped his head in the fire.

Fiction

I tell her I’m a woman now, that my boobs just popped in.

Poem of the Week

Our bed a garden of the littlest sighs of our waking. Our room, abstract.

iPoems

An expansion into light, or we could have been, or were for a moment.

Poem of the Week

The world smells brand-new crisp the way an ax cuts fire wood.

Poem of the Week

He took off his clothes and left them on the living room floor.

Poetry Contest Winners

You try to confess your crime of turning the world into words.

Poem of the Week

My stepfather has gone out with a blanket to place over a doe’s body.

Story of the Week

You’re going to have a difficult life if you can’t figure out where to stand.

Fall Contest Winners

I hear myself giving advice in my father’s voice: Take the emotion out.

Story of the Week

We backed up and I kept ripping it at his face, trying to knock his teeth out.

Fiction

Here’s the part where you pledge devotion until death, I told myself.

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Poetry

Beyond her ampleness, he stands a small man vanquished.

Story of the Week

The division of the community had become more marked than ever.

Story of the Week

The King’s affair was supposed to be a secret. But you know how it is.

Fiction

Another girl like an origami crane, given to a reckless boy who unfolds it.

Fiction

Cory only hires stoners so he has something on them if they try blackmail.

Story of the Week

There was something in her voice, some awful, enduring fire.

Nonfiction

Tana Wozcjuk

Story of the Week

I tried mightily, but no longer could I ladle those ancient words into the air.

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Interviews

It was a horrible place because it wasn’t exactly horrible.

Interviews - Audio/Video

Geoffrey Wolff

First & Second Looks
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Nonfiction

The talk was heady, but the conversations were dead-ends.

Story of the Week

Our remarks must be tempered by a sense of cooperation.

Fiction

I repeated the name thoughtfully, then said no, I didn’t think I knew her.

First & Second Looks
Narrative Outloud

Tobias Wolff reading two stories aloud: "Say Yes" and "Her Dog."

Narrative Outloud

Tobias Wolff

Nonfiction

The appetite for self-surrender is nothing new in our makeup.

Story of the Week

I could shoot you and nobody would say boo. I’m within my rights.

Narrative Outloud

Betrayal was written on my face, in my eyes, and I knew it.

Poem of the Week

On a jet stream, unearthly, air can travel at hundreds of miles per hour.

Story of the Week

The elevator inside him begins to fall with dizzying speed.

Fiction

He’d been lost and tripping vividly on some speckled acid for days.

Fiction

The night was clear, a fat kingfish moon in the sky with stars.

Fiction

You could take your pick from an array of rebellions to consider.

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Photography & Art

Christopher Woods

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Story of the Week

How shocking it was to discover these real things were not real.

Story of the Week

The heron returns; the sky veils her stars; then bares them.

Story of the Week

No one perhaps has ever felt passionately towards a pencil.

Fall Contest Winners

Overnight, somebody had dumped a dead pit bull in the trash bin.

Fiction

Cerberuses ran in packs, terrorizing drunks who fell in the snow.

Fall Contest Winners

He pushed aside a photograph of a man with a knife stuck in his eye.

Story of the Week

When the population was whiter, they fawned over the Korean.

Fall Contest Winners

Who cared about a whiff of male exertion and motor oil? Not Lana.

Poetry

Since the day the bell was cast I have sat in the bishop’s carved chair and waited my turn.

Poem of the Week

We cannot leave it to the forces to rub out the color of the world.

Poem of the Week

Such longings: Errant. Verdant. To have a good time. And dream.

iPoems

He pretended he was in his boat, his cellmate’s flushing, Arctic Ocean.

Poem of the Week

This was his sky, his clouds rucked up over the fields. His country.

Poetry

One spent the better part of this life writing in the dirt with a stick.