The ABA attempts to “box out” Amazon
B&N was apparently hacked
Louise Glück has won the Nobel Prize in Literature
NBA finalists announced
Houghton Mifflin fires 22% of its workforce
It’s not all about the pub date
Recent Fiction
Remains, by Maureen Simons
They came back every year to lay flowers at the spot. Two little girls, hand in hand, walked soundlessly up Nora’s driveway.
Recent Poetry
The Figure, by Joseph Fasano
You sit at a window and listen to your father / crossing the dark grasses of the fields
Recent CNF
Big Girls Like Us, by Kelly Flynn
Every time I see my father, he asks me if I have lost weight. He has done this since I was a child.
A Survey of the Sacred
by Isabella David McCaffrey
She says, “To write poetry about sacred spaces, I must understand what I mean by sacred spaces, il faut comprendre premièrement ce que je veux dire par Terre Sacrée.”
The Polar Bear
by Jennifer Givhan
What I’m asking is will watching The Discovery / Channel with my young black boy instead / of the news coverage of the riot funerals riot arrests / riot nothing changes riots be enough to keep him / from harm?
Distance Lessons
by Sally Pla
When he came back from that first trip to India, all she could get out of him was that it was “awesome.” He was never a talker. It used to exasperate her when he was little; she’d want to shake him to get words out.
Tulip Tears
by Deborah Clearman
When lightning strikes the tulip poplar, five hundred years of leaf lifting crashes into splinter wood, and several notables roll over in their graves.
Family
by Cezarija Abartis
Outside the kitchen window, squirrels scattered the seed from the birdfeeder Paula’s dad had set up. The seeds gleamed in the sun like drops of water.
What I Imagine My Parents Did After Dinner
by Brian Fanelli
In our house, nobody ever danced, / even though my father played Elvis / or Johnny Cash from the silver / CD player that rested on the nook
Long Walk Home
by Kristene Brown
Hot summer and birds pillage garbage cans, / squabbling for scraps. / With ripped jeans and knotted hair, I follow / the unpaved road to town.
Putting Out the Trash
by Robert S. King
My socks are small trash bags, / and the street number of my house is zero. / Garbage cans are my walls on winter nights.
Ten Short Poems
by Simon Perchik
These sheep have no choice either / though even in summer / they still want to hear the truth
Traffic Jam Song #1
by David Tucker
No one understands the traffic jams in this city, / how they just spring from the ground like this / and why, when you reach the head of the line, there is / no accident
