Stories
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.
Fiction
He picked up the knife I had there, and said he’d kill me if ever I told.
Poem of the Week
A knife left by an untraced foot marks where to lay the body—fácil.
Poetry
Phaethon thought he could drive the sun but was struck down to earth.
Poem of the Week
Under pillows of snow, the creek shushes the sharp architecture of ice.
Poem of the Week
I am a pornography of small promises, the chugging gin of the universe.
Poem of the Week
I roam the dirt with the law in my teeth, a widower in search of a widow.
Poem of the Week
I roll lactic bubbles under my face with rose quartz, fuck a pillow in sleep.
Poetry
I realized you were my fourth love, and the system was always doomed.
Story of the Week
Daofu was a cluster of lights bubbling up in the belly of a darkened plain.
Poetry
A landscape values people at the level that it values other things.
iPoems
A boat-tailed grackle counts the passing cars from the traffic light.
Readers' Narratives
I found the tumbleweed hanging from the ceiling over her bed.
Poetry
This box is full of wires, energy that moves in ways I can hardly fathom.
Story of the Week
He thought about kissing her. Then he decided that she was just lonely.
Love Story Contest
Interviewer said he had no intention of stealing anything from Subject.
Nonfiction
Together we invented intimacy, both its benefits and its horrors.
Poem of the Week
Unwall the summer in blue threading, gift of someone who loved me.
Story of the Week
I wondered if the coyotes and deer were mourning the loss of Steve.
Fiction
My mother used to cry in church seeing a child walk down the aisle.
