by Sam Barbee Silence, our first lie. We perch pacified, feastingwhen fed. Ignore plagues and storms outsidefavorite outlet stores. Mediocre menaces inside.Nothing allowed to interrupt our next shoppi...

YouTube video by Comic Book School - Buddy Scalera & Mike Fasolo

by Bart Edelman A monogrammed humidor. A cocker spaniel puppy named Mike. A box of chocolate-covered proverbs. An autographed Louisville Slugger. A bottle of Chartreuse Green V.E.P. A holiday meeting ...

A poem inspired by May Swenson.

by Gabrielle Idso The cottage perched on the cliff edge like a barnacle. Its walls were a mosaic of shells that caught the morning light and threw it back in a thousand minuscule rainbows. From deep w...

On the evening of the day after the towers fell, I was waiting by the barricades on Houston Street and LaGuardia Place for my friend Mags to come up from SoHo and have dinner with me. On the skyline, ...

America (Simon and Garfunkel, 1968). America (1-2-3, live, the Marquee Club, 1967). America (Bowie, the Concert for New York City, 2001). America (Bowie, Robin Hood Benefit, 2002). Those towers wer…

The Sunday Long Read is seeking pitches for two original longform stories, with an eye toward publication in the second half of 2021. We're looking for ideas specifically from part-time, freelance, un...

by Vivian Pearl I see a young woman,A white blond girl with her hair shaved high above her scalp, a holy blond child sitting in her fifteen-year-old lapShe looks over him with pride and joy.He is not ...

by Vivian Pearl To get home I have to walk under the bridgeWhere the street lights don’t workThe strangers I pass always have something for meThey flick their tongue over their teeth and coo like pige...

by Peter Hannon A man in blue overalls pumped his gas. His truck was green with a silver stripe and rusted wheel wells. Henry pulled in and glanced at the man as he drove between the pumps. The man pi...

Joan Birman thought her major discoveries were behind her. Then came an email from a young neighbor — a girl who knew little but wanted to learn.

by Arianna Taylor Your cat keeps looking at me funny. I don’t understand much, but I know the eyes it's giving me from across the kitchen—like I’m some sort of sick mammal with silk-spiked teeth. It t...

by Sean Gutman An Expanded Exemplum of the Master from Walton’s Voyage in Frankenstein  I had had my fill of the sea. Have you heard the tired joke about the sailor with the oar upon his shoulder? A m...

by Sambhu Ramachandran We know the person who peeled an onion             for the first time expected some mystery  to lurk behind layer upon eye-smarting layer            and was terribly disappointe...

Marlon James’s story of gay experience and murderous homophobia in Jamaica is a maximalist’s banquet — and the Booker Prize winner’s finest book yet.

by Sambhu Ramachandran I could never believe in a god rising up  from the roiling waters of my identity crisis,  my heart gripped around his bulging biceps like a ship saved just in time. But I put my...

by William James -for Manchester, NH [2] Sitting on a graffiti’d stone  overlooking the city. Watching  jets take off from MHT.  Ruiner is in my headphones  & hell is empty. There’s sermons  to read, ...

by william james -for Manchester, NH I drive to the grocery store  to relieve my refrigerator  of its crushing loneliness.  I return empty-handed  because I left my wallet  on my desk. & Elm St.  rage...

by Jennifer Ward I remember the winter I turned ten most of all.  One Sunday, my father stood by the front door in his worn blue coat, a coffee mug in his hand. The faint smell of whiskey lingered bet...

by Shannon Brown They say bad things come in threes. Instead of waiting for what will happen next, We wonder how many threes there will be this year. That’s not a test of will towards the universe As ...

The eminent critic Harold Bloom called his 1981 book “Little, Big” a “neglected masterpiece” and one of the best novels of the 20th century.

by Jen Drociak Something happened in the spruce tree under the cloak of darkness Something happened in the spruce tree to which no human bore witness  In the tree where only the northern mockingbirds ...

by Reyna Espinoza I was born of sunrise and pesticides,of strawberries and struggles.I was raised with sunburnsand church on Sunday,where my knees memorizedthe wood of the prie-dieu,where prayers were...

by Ed Schad Tony the Tiger began to groan free of his box, pacing, padding, rushing  down to disrupt the morning table.  Great though he was, his flakes also great, he increased, deepened, outstretche...

Why can’t critics take John Crowley seriously?

by Kenneth Pobo our white sweet pea  curls up and above  the top. We don’t let  the gate swing open  for fear of breaking it, no longer use the back  door until frost fells  the vine. My cousin  says ...

by Jacqueline Hyatt He likes the smell of my perfume, How it sticks to the pillowcase  Hours after I go.  He likes the smell of my perfume; He craves reminders that  He is not alone.  He likes the sme...