Stories

Poetry

There was only the gulf of our steps, our breathing brittle as string.

N30B Winners

I dug a hole in you; I jumped (here is the church, here is the steeple).

Poetry

I told you how I’ve always been attracted to little violences.

N30B Winners

Elsewhere, perhaps here too, regimes stagger, a congress ends.

Poetry

Even as a child, I was skeptical—testing God when He wasn’t looking.

Poetry

Judith Harris

MTeicher258.jpg
Poetry

Before there was air, sublime silence. There was no one not to hear it.

Poem of the Week

If I bring the wrong pen the words look like snow piles on an empty page.

MelnickLynn_AuthorPicB.jpg
Poetry

I let you pull my hair, throw me to the rocks, disarrange me.

Poem of the Week

Absence rarely makes the heart grow fonder, or so my mother said.

Poem of the Week

Lunatics call it annihilation . . . Think of it as not doing a thing

CarruthH.jpg
Poem of the Week

Suddenly two would dart and clasp one another belly to belly.

NicholsTravis_AuthorPic.jpg
Poetry

A child no bigger than small change calls from her window j’ai faim.

Hedin258.jpg
Poetry

Robert Hedin

smithfoto.jpg
Poetry

Soon everything here will be sopped up by time. Only art will last.

DavisJon.jpg
Poetry

My daddy used to yodel. That’s not all. He'd wear plaid shorts & guinea Ts.

Dropkin258.jpg
Poetry

My baby was calling to me. But I was welded to the mountain.

Poetry

Tell her I put poison in the pot and I intend to watch her drink it.

Poetry

Michael McGriff

Nebel258.jpg
Poetry

What do you offer someone who has lost half of her beginning?

Poetry

Marianne Boruch

YoungLS_authorphoto.jpg
Poetry

Years ago I wanted parallel lives, to see how it turns out for all of me.

Poetry

The walls pull apart like a troubled couple, finally deciding to hold.

Poetry

What excuse did I use to pick a fight with that arrogant poet?

Poetry

I’ve taken the pledge and made donations of blood to the world.

Poetry

My brush an M-16, thirty-round clips for tubes of paint, all of them red.

Poetry

Even the busiest of businessmen are out for the count, paying the price.

Poetry

Let’s rummage through each other’s bodies like a blowout sale.

Romtvedt258.png
Poetry

How large our muscles have to be to lift our wings even a single time.

BitsuiS.jpg
Poetry

They plant whispers where shouts incinerate into hisses.