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
It is here I learn the speech of men. The speechless guilt of every swig.
Poetry
Time is a hearse and horse, a carrot and stick, a window and widow.
Poetry
Imagine the world you want to live in; make the world in this image.
Poetry Contest Winners
I slipped one sparrow black and shivering into my mouth.
Poetry Contest Winners
i was a wild thing down by the river, quiet like wild things are.
Poetry Contest Winners
Exhausted, androgynous, delirious, I delight in my many parts.
Poetry
He loves me. That’s half enough: he’s the only man around.
Poetry
In hushed awe they talk of things to come, a golden time of flowering.
N30B Winners
I dug a hole in you; I jumped (here is the church, here is the steeple).
N30B Winners
Elsewhere, perhaps here too, regimes stagger, a congress ends.
Poetry
I told you how I’ve always been attracted to little violences.
Poetry
I lie down and see you one bed over; therefore God exists.
Poem of the Week
our minds are not the same if they were the same you would be here
Poetry
He greets you with a kiss and marries your elbow to walk the path.
Poetry
There was only the gulf of our steps, our breathing brittle as string.
Poetry
Before there was air, sublime silence. There was no one not to hear it.
Poetry
The stars begin to turn clockwise, freeing us of all consequences.
Poetry
If every present
is possible, how can we have eyes to see?
Poetry
I drag my sheets as Earth drags her tangled mess of tides.
Poetry
Even as a child, I was skeptical—testing God when He wasn’t looking.
Story of the Week
His flannel sleeve dangled into the flame. Pretty soon, I was on fire too.
Story of the Week
Our father crumbled after her affair. We watched him for signs of cracking.
Fiction
Maybe he was preparing for a disaster that would never happen.
Spring Contest Winners
I thought about the little graveyard where the man would be laid.
Poetry
he has come to write like nervous wasps in my mind like a grocery list.
iPoems
Her trust in me is a swirled marble sinking slowly in an aqua pool.
Poem of the Week
the bible doesn’t tell us how they stormed up to his ark beat their fists
Fiction
What right had Flora, of all people, to pronounce on what was strange?
Readers' Narratives
In the school smock, I looked like an angel in search of her crèche.