Frankfurt 2021 will be live
Books people think should be stripped of their “classic” status
Roxane Gay launches eponymous imprint
Very Hungry Caterpillar author Eric Carle has died
80-year-old manuscript becomes a bestseller
Whoever thought there’d be a MakeDisneyPay task force?
Recent Fiction
The Noon Executions, by Susan M. Gelles
They heard the shots, and the cheers, and every Saturday night they drank to celebrate the everlasting strength of the regime.
Recent Poetry
Thirteen, by Rebecca Foust
I was thirteen, and there was a boy’s mouth / where my legs met.
Recent CNF
Thank You, Girls!, by Dvora Wolff Rabino
I’m culling needless items from kitchen, baths, and linen closets. I’m curating friendships. Now it’s your turn to go.
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
Book du jour
by Lee Martin
Open Contests
by Stephen Parrish, with the editors of The Lascaux Review
Lascaux Vol 7
