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
I don’t need to consult a healer to feel the aura glowing around us.
Nonfiction
I understood that life could end without warning, even young lives.
Story of the Week
Order and gardens. Penelope liked things to grow just as they would.
Poem of the Week
How do wheels and wind-trash weave us into wakefulness?
Poem of the Week
As a shadow I arouse you will you believe the truth of my mouth.
Story of the Week
I cradled the lifeless bird in my hand and marveled at its beauty.
Story of the Week
It was enough to make the most hardened veteran drop his guard.
Story of the Week
Not long after Christmas, the smoke really hit Melbourne.
iStories
“Jesus Christ,” Dad said, after the counselor spelled it out for him.
Poem of the Week
Put out to pasture, flop down into clover, alternate to the glue factory.
Poem of the Week
It is like the call of a voice the call of a voice that is not there.
Story of the Week
I broke up fights, bandaged cuts, fielded calls from parents, and sat with the sad or depressed.
Poem of the Week
I have many dreams, I say. In my dreams I am better than myself.
iStories
A lawyer, senator, judge; laws are what he lives for. His left eye squints involuntarily.
Poem of the Week
On a jet stream, unearthly, air can travel at hundreds of miles per hour.
Readers' Narratives
Six-Word Stories
Here's a great way to tell the comedy of sex in only six words.
Story of the Week
Joshua was well versed in things to which I was not yet privy, like sex.
Poetry
I remember a field too long as the stem of a pear chosen in Upstate.
Graphic Stories
Fly through 13 billion years of history in this graphic story.
Poetry
The woman who raised the woman who raised me was a mistress.
Fiction
He’s gonna change the way we farm around here. Make it more like India.
Poem of the Week
The one who sold me a smuggled gun sold me smuggled bullets.
Fiction
Is there some one way a guy should be on his wedding day, dickwad?

Our Bodies, Our Words

Thirty-eight years after its initial publication, the revised, updated Our Bodies, Ourselves sits in the front row of my double-stacked bookshelf. The reason for its lasting influence, I
believe, is . . .
Story of the Week
Loss. That word echoed in my ears as my eyes ranged around the garden.
Story of the Week
Our neighbors the Bells are watching, watching us when we play outside.
Story of the Week
The rifle slams into my shoulder. Smoke pummels the air.