Stories
Poetry
I make a point of smelling the lilac every day that first week in May.
Narrative High School Writing Contest
Because I can love every small thing.
Story of the Week
I was opposed to the taking of human life. I was opposed to all war.
Poem of the Week
Make It Big, all return and rhythm, a groove that plays to the center.
Having written every day for the past forty years, Hall is never certain that what he’s written is “good.”
Story of the Week
We’re stuck floating around on the surface of our lives like kids in a pool.
Narrative Outloud
Best-selling author Melanie Gideon reads from her novel Wife 22.
Narrative Outloud
The light is like a benediction. My husband reaches for my hand.
Spring Contest Winners
My job requires me to make things disappear like a Vegas magician.
Poem of the Week
Appearance does not really appear, but it appears to appear.
Story of the Week
When the doctors’ voices started turning to noise, I didn’t fight it.
Poem of the Week
I live for now in the second house of having asked a favor from a friend.
Nonfiction
This is a novel that contains more than its actuarial share of falls.
Poetry
Oh they pay me well. I make a small fortune. Yes they pay me well.
Story of the Week
The window washer smiles a little and licks his lips. Nadine smiles back.
Story of the Week
Dad is catnip to the lady residents. He’s tall and lean, plus he’s got all his hair.
Poetry
América, make me wings large enough to carry me back and forth.
Poetry
No one was awake and I was hungover young as clean as a piano.
Story of the Week
Give him a bottle of red wine. You’ll be his best friend right away.
Poem of the Week
The gravest season and least understood is more than pale heads
iPoems
You have your apron on under your coat. We’ve got each other.
Story of the Week
The nights she and Wade have sex she can’t do so without feeling guilty.
Classics, Story of the Week
Dexter was unconsciously dictated to by his winter dreams.
Poem of the Week
I feel unnatural, half a human face smothered in deep light.
Poetry
Yes, Sweetness, a white shadow shimmers on the X-ray of the future.
Poem of the Week
I stop and look at the sky. Suddenly: orange, red, pink, blue, green, purple.
Poetry
You and the cat wish I were baking pumpkin pie and we were happier.
