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

Nonfiction
Those moments are all I want. I want a life of this. He sighs and I sigh.
iPoems
It’s raining concrete. I bite my grief wetly. Who will test these chains?
Fiction
Jennifer Haigh
Story of the Week
The ashes of a human being are not ash. The body burns into wood.
Poem of the Week
you a ghetto dreamcatcher under my fitted warding ghosts

In Search of Celilo

I found these photos of Celilo Falls while doing research for an earlier story. . . .
Story of the Week
“I want to stay in real yurts,” I said, “not yurts for Westerners.”
Story of the Week
Pushing by the man, he ran down the street towards the station.
Fiction
“Can’t you see Hemingway’s having breakfast with his grandson?”
Fiction
Divorced. Wife living with someone else. Pregnant with his child.
Nonfiction
“Happy? Nabokov died yesterday, we all move up a notch.”
Story of the Week
He’s an excellent student. It’s just that . . . he thinks ideas are real.
Winter Contest Winners
Blacked-out little angel, you shuffle home under the streetlights.
Story of the Week
She’d do anything once, to know what it was like.
Poem of the Week
Every room came furnished half-real & dead like mirrors on skin
Poem of the Week
The child writes, Child, and is amazed at this word on the page.
Poetry
Another year another almanac, a washed-out castle in the sand.
Story of the Week
Bad luck, like the white-scabs disease, can infect others.
First & Second Looks
Taylor measures every word, as if holding the world lightly by the throat.
Story of the Week
I was under a spell, those days. I had been ever since I’d first seen her.
Poem of the Week
Some longings appear so frequently they must be instinct.
Classics
It’s other things than the like of you would make a person afeard.
Fiction
It lay slumped where they’d dragged it, a fright of an animal.
Poem of the Week
Bodies, moths, destroyers. Fear like finding a bullet in a snowman.
Poem of the Week
I decide it’s as good a place as any to stop, pant & smell the roses—
Story of the Week
We were alone in the world, and we had left dear ties behind us.
Poetry
The old-timer outside the guard station was knifing his own tires.
Story of the Week
Everyone roared at her wit. Ravenous children prowled like tigers.