Featured Poem 7/15 – “Night In Iowa”
Night In Iowa by Deborah Ager Nimbus clouds erasing stars above Lamoni. Jaundiced lights. Silos. Loose dogs. Cows whose stench infuses the handful of homes, whose sad voices storm the plains with longing.
Write Gooder, not Better
Night In Iowa by Deborah Ager Nimbus clouds erasing stars above Lamoni. Jaundiced lights. Silos. Loose dogs. Cows whose stench infuses the handful of homes, whose sad voices storm the plains with longing.
Portrait of My Parents Making Love as a Stomach Virus by Lauren Schmidt For two days, my father’s eyes were socked in fog. His body’s heat rose on a high flame. His face was...
Welcome to the new Sunday exclusive of “What Else You Should Be Reading”. The internet is wide and hard to navigate, but I’ve found some treasures I’d like to share with you in a...
CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE: INTRODUCTION A1. If you consider yourself an adult, read the following introduction to this week’s book club book. B1. If you consider yourself a child, skip down to the train...
Five years ago, I studied abroad in China and met a guy who sat at the entry of the dormitory and practiced his English on me while I sat on the cold marble floor...
The Children by Eugénio de Andrade translated by Atsuro Riley Children grow in secret. They hide themselves in the depths and darker reaches of the house to become wild cats, white birches. One...
In a continuation on last week’s post about reality, I want to talk about specificity. Have you thought about this? The connection between specific images and reality? So far, it’s the most fool-proof way...
Filicudi by Eliza Griswold You have a beautiful mouth, Luigi, the man-boy says. The rubber raft has floated far from shore. The choice is this: medusa sea, a boil of jellied lashes, or...
You may have had that moment. You hand a piece over to a friend or a reviewer and they come back to you saying, “I don’t believe that character would ever do that” or...
Tourists by Yehuda Amichai Visits of condolence is all we get from them. They squat at the Holocaust Memorial, They put on grave faces at the Wailing Wall And they laugh behind heavy curtains...