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
Poetry
Through the dark, we say, through the dark: but do we ever really know?
Poetry
Regarding the affairs of our Father, your demon is Ennui.
Poetry
I’m from Boston, is that why I imagine Fredrick’s emotions for him?
Poetry Contest Winners
At Walden Pond, Henry Thoreau clicks like on the “Wilderness” page.
Poem of the Week
Dainty morsels do not fail to attract gentlemen as well as ladies.
Poem of the Week
She bequeathed her children a mother who dreams and smiles.
Poem of the Week
Like lions in cages, women like me dream . . . of freedom . . .
Poem of the Week
With these fingers, afraid and aware, I stroke your delicate skin.
Poetry
i silenced with my hands the loud wet thing that would not let me sleep
Poem of the Week
The old hen scratches then looks, scratches then looks. My life.
Poetry
I bled. God didn’t want to hear about it. He said unclean and so it was.
N30B Winners
I turned—a peculiar triumph—as ruin succumbed to the ruin it birthed.
Poem of the Week
The meeting hall of their bodies piled on lawns caked with dying birds.
Poem of the Week
The keys look like Tommy’s teeth once he began to appreciate meth.
Poem of the Week
…a classmate dropped dead, his heart was attacked at thirty-three.
Poetry
i learned to save lives from a man who reminded me
of my father
Poetry
I walked that land with him, one and mingling, breaking into breath.
Poetry
Out there, my father captains a boat tour below the Cliffs of Moher
Poem of the Week
This was his sky, his clouds rucked up over the fields. His country.
Poem of the Week
We cannot leave it to the forces to rub out the color of the world.
Poetry
Into the storm, the iridescent cosmos. To the savage dances of sunset.
Poem of the Week
Why is the sun such a bad companion to the desert traveler?
Poem of the Week
You’ve gathered more knowledge than you’d need for nine lives.
Poem of the Week
It was our flesh with its deadly sweetness that led them on.
Poem of the Week
She already knew that deafening silence of a call gone unanswered.
Poetry Contest Winners
Don’t try to find me by spit, by genetic sleuthing, by Are you my?
Poetry
It was only a matter of time before the damp of loss grew within us like moss.
