Stories
Story of the Week
The horror of the waste appalls me. This beauty. This habitation of dream.
Poem of the Week
Wanderer moon smiling a faintly ironical smile at this summer morning—
Poem of the Week
Three rooms, sight unseen, rented from a nurse and her husband.
Poetry
My body. Stop the air. Travel by stopping, full stop, just there.
Poem of the Week
Years after the Sisters of the Holy Names left you unlock the door.
iPoems
The shadow carves the hours while the Latin inscribes
iPoems
sunrise reminds the shama to emerge from her perch in the pandanus tree
Poetry
There was a fish. And then there was the consciousness of robots.
Story of the Week
Jo had tossed every last wedding photo, wanted no recollection.
Story of the Week
For the first two months of class, Toby did barely any writing at all.
Story of the Week
The first time we were alone, I knew it before he even told me.
Fall Contest Winners
My mother could get me to obey without ever touching me.
Story of the Week
If it were me, kid, I’d swallow. You bet I would. But first I’d run like hell.
Fiction
Put yourself in bad positions, they’ll remind us. Address your weaknesses.
Poetry
A man jostles my stride to the street, no shoulder on which to move.
Poetry
We cling to an exact number of planets, to the Earth Our Mother.
Poem of the Week
If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you time is a language I don’t speak.
Poetry
They need to be named, loved, then unnamed to be seen once more.
Readers' Narratives
The speed limit on the Dragon is thirty miles an hour. Even that feels suicidal.
Poem of the Week
Window widows we were once, like lonely oil spilled on sullied beaches.
iPoems
No, you may not walk there. No, you may not stand on that. He is not here.
