Stories
Poem of the Week
I take what I want, and have ever since what I want disappeared.
Narrative High School Writing Contest
There are elephants in the hall looking for their mothers.
Story of the Week
Home, I thought. This was the new country I had been yearning for.
Poem of the Week
A voice like my mother’s nail polish and my father’s lottery tickets.
Poetry
How, like a dream, all the world’s characters are aspects of me.
Story of the Week
The streets were filled with couples and families on their way home.
Poetry
Lately it’s getting harder to say the true thing, to find solace in nature.
First & Second Looks
I was called upon to set my will against my father, the village custom.
Fiction
“That pool,” Kenny said, breathing harder. “I’m telling you, it’s magic.”
Spring Contest Winners
You locate the green outline of the state your cousins are inside of now.
Poem of the Week
I couldn’t wait. By the time you return it would’ve rotted on the vine.
Story of the Week
I push the stroller across the courts to the scene of the thing I don’t get.
Poem of the Week
They’re are all begging to be fed. Changed. Read to. Desperate for milk.
Fiction
How can anyone imagine sleep is possible in such a time?
Story of the Week
Lynette had stepped on something sharp. There was blood.
Fall Contest Winners
She’s young and lovely in a mad, disheveled way, and hard to resist.
Story of the Week
“Who you kiddin? There’s no middle class anymore, we’re all just poor.”
Poem of the Week
They say it is the soul that rises, not the body. But the body does rise—
Poem of the Week
Lufthansa lifts off under me. The set sun disinters, a fanned cinder.
Story of the Week
“Why, Ma? I don’t understand. I just don’t want you to be alone.”
Poetry Contest Winners
I am determined to praise my particular world, so I must praise you.
Narrative Outloud
An owl, as large and incongruous in the night sky as a flying man.
Narrative Outloud
An owl, as large
and incongruous in the night sky as a flying man.
and incongruous in the night sky as a flying man.
Poetry
we’ve walked the streets: candied apples on sticks, fish heads.
Poetry
Two softened reeds of rosemary pair, and spin in the white velouté.
Fiction
The surface of night is disrupted. Ripples cross the neighborhood.
Story of the Week
She was laughing. Something animal in me was sparked, and I chased her.
Poetry
There is beauty in the way she looks at me over the kitchen table.
