Stories

First & Second Looks

What I have learned as a farmer, I have learned also as a writer.

Poetry

Some people see the man but not the light, the field but not the varnish.

First & Second Looks

I’m glad I shall only live in one century. Even if it’s the wrong one.

N30B Winners

West Oakland was characterized by unemployment, poverty, and blight.

N30B Winners

You never see Westerners, so you don’t think of them as human beings.

Fiction

He didn’t mind, he insisted, that he loved her more than she loved him.

Story of the Week

Somebody would be a lot happier if she were more like her mother.

Fiction

Spanish men. They whispered and whistled. It made her jumpy.

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Poem of the Week

We’d hit something in the dark which—bang!—was there and gone.

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Poem of the Week

I crouched just like my mother burying nail clippings to ward off curses.

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Classics

My mother and I remained apart. My father came late to the party.

Poem of the Week

This is the woman who had shrunk so small, nobody could find her.

Fiction

She asked, “What’s the weirdest thing you can do with your body?”

Fiction

How do our lives disappear even while we’re in the midst of them?

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Fiction

She began to see the word, or traces of it, wherever she went.

Fiction

Sister Barbara folded her arms like a forbearing husband.

Poem of the Week

He came into town with his big red pen and began revising us.

Classics

Who was responsible for my father not living up to expectations?

Story of the Week

What’s the harm? Will you fight even the healing powers of love?

Poem of the Week

Ajax killed men
and then animals
thinking they were men.

Poem of the Week

I waited and waited, rethinking first sentences in my sleep.

Poetry

My books, I can hardly read them, they make so much sense.

Poem of the Week

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

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Poem of the Week

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

Story of the Week

His mother wasn’t there to meet him at his stop. She never was.

Poem of the Week

The moon it is red, and the stars are fled but all the sky is a-burning.

Spring Contest Winners

Our ambition was a clawing, grasping thing. It got us out of bed.