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Short Stories and Flash Fiction
- The Veldt by Ray Bradbury
- The Fruit of the Princess Tree by Sage Tyrtle
- Welcome to Your Authentic Indian Experience™ by Rebecca Roanhorse
- The House of Asterion by Jorge Luis Borges
- After We Walked Away by Erika L. Satifka
- Flux by Ctrlcreep
- Sixteen Hours in Iceland by Laurie Marhoefer
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Poetry
- Going Home: New Orleans by Sheryl St. Germain
- Some Months After My Father's Death by Sheryl St. Germain
- Fever 103° by Sylvia Plath
- Lady Lazarus by Sylvia Plath
- Tulips by Sylvia Plath
- Daddy by Sylvia Plath
- Edge by Sylvia Plath
- Aquatic Nocturne by Sylvia Plath
- To Time by Sylvia Plath
- Afterimages by Audre Lorde
- From the House of Yemanjá by Audre Lorde
- Coal by Audre Lorde
- The Negro Speaks of Rivers by Langston Huges
- Homeland Security by Geoffrey Brock
- You Won't Know This by Kristina Mahr
My Poetry
Midwest Night from an Amtrak Roomette
Spotlit ground stretches under cement sky.
I don't have my glasses on; shapes emerge
Regular and distinct, hopper-bottom and flat.
This bin is three-headed. Still, but not silent.
Grain hisses down parallel pipes
From the central platform. Inside,
Fans hum like sleeping dogs.
Moving trucks glide an inch off the ground
Glowing warning red. The security lights blink white
So birds don't fly close. We don't either.
On Being Safe
There are a thousand doors
Between us and them,
Between us and then.
Home's key has a sun printed on it,
The hotel's is a square black fob.
Each door hangs firm on its hinges,
Closed. No, thank you.
In your home there is your cat,
You and me,
The din of machines
Going about their work.
There is no crying.
No calls in the night
Nothing in the next room.