We believe students and readers everywhere deserve a great and free modern library, inside of which they can get deliriously, entertainingly, profoundly lost. And found.
Stories
Poem of the Week
You need to teach these cows to meditate. To lose their bodies.
Poetry
I am part dumb, and blind, and deaf, and untasting and unfeeling.
Poetry
In this plummeting weather there is nothing to do but lean in.
Poem of the Week
It wants to name the dead—without a name you wander lost in the sky.
Poem of the Week
It was spring: the field, a botanist’s mirage of wild flowers.
Poem of the Week
It was the truth of it all—hunger’s chill, the scream beneath the surface.
Story of the Week
The Others came in the light of day and splayed Father open.
Poem of the Week
We are good at thinking we can stay. We are good at finding hurt.
Nonfiction
We’d never had a cross word, but I’d never corrected him.
Fiction
There was nothing sadder than the look of defeat in a man’s eyes.
Poem of the Week
Wrung taut & tender at the soft play of fingertips, we breathe desires.
Laughter takes refuge in bodies no longer coaxed to move. Nature becomes a thought.
Poem of the Week
There is something on my mind rushing up as river in a locked car.
Poetry
Cat food smells even unopened like vomit and I don’t trust cats.
Fiction
Design a way to kill those rats, and do it now, Fiori, do it now.
Poetry
Where will we go and how will we steer when the cars are gone?
Nonfiction
What about writers who come suddenly into full power late in life?
Narrative Outloud
What about writers who come suddenly into full power late in life?
Poem of the Week
You gave me blue and I gave you yellow. Together we are green.
Poetry
What I became was not pretty. Like a needle on water-warped paper.
Story of the Week
When I come to be old, I resolve not to tell the same story over and over.
Story of the Week
If he could not evade a serious question by a joke, he bolted.
Poetry
Re: murdering democracy, oiling the shore, shearing the rain forest.
Poem of the Week
I wouldn’t know what to do with the body, gills pumping like an accordion.
Poem of the Week
there is no place on this earth I can run from my own prejudice
Poem of the Week
it’s hard not to be obsessed with your own shadow I don’t tell him
