RWA replaces RITA with Vivian
Bookstore sales plunged 33% in March
Colson Whitehead wins second Pulitzer
Edgar Awards announced
B&N is having money problems
Literacy is a constitutional right
Traffic Jam Song #1

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
At a Truck Stop on Highway 124

At a Truck Stop on Highway 124

by Andrea Witzke Slot
The odor of stale hotdogs coils / around this truck stop of quiet men / who sit with faces bowed, bath kits / in laps, fair-like tickets in hand.
Breakfast on the Terrace

Breakfast on the Terrace

by Rustin Larson
Prism vase, asters blue as glacier ice, / baskets of strawberries, croissants, / goblets lit with orange juice, / & the cathedral distant, the boat house / flying its flag in an international zone
Fiesta Brava

Fiesta Brava

by Joseph Gross
Then there he is again— / the Suit of Lights, all / epaulets and reluctant pink and gold, / back in the ring.
Beer For Breakfast

Beer For Breakfast

by David Salner
The chrome-colored clouds / pushed the heat down, held in the car fumes, / the smell of the asphalt. Out on the patio, / I was ready for work
Maternity Leave

Maternity Leave

by Lauren Yates
There is something about traveling home that stops the blood. / My womb becomes a howling dog warning me of danger.
A Quintuple

A Quintuple

by Simon Perchik
Here, there, the way silence / tows you below the waterline / and though you are alone / you’re not sure where her name / is floating on the surface / or what’s left
River Mouth

River Mouth

by Heather Dobbins
She hasn’t taken off her swimsuit all summer. She is two hands / across her middle. I know that from throwing her: one foot / on my thigh, the other in my palm. Up, over, splash.
Proctoring

Proctoring

by Michael Lauchlan
Among students, I drink the same / coffee I drank at home an hour / ago—which is not some philosophical metaphor.
Sefeed

Sefeed

by Mathew Javidi
If I could go back, / I would have clutched my tongue, / not let it pirouette into / the soft, dim spotlight of / your living room

Fireside
Required Reading
*

A Place So Deep Inside America It Can’t Be Seen

by Kari Gunter-Seymour

The Glass Hotel

by Emily St. John Mandel

The Geek’s Guide to the Writing Life: an Instructional Memoir for Prose Writers

by Stephanie Vanderslice

Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity, and Change

by Maggie Smith

The 2020 Pushcart Prize Winners

Edited by Bill Henderson

Winner of the National Book Award in Fiction

Trust Exercise

by Susan Choi

Becoming Dr. Seuss

by Brian Jay Jones