A once resplendent roan
lying on its side, legs flailing,
as if it thought—
as if, in its final moment
it could think at all—
that it was still running,
wild and free.

So disdainful, so hig […]

Have you ever used virtual reality goggles to watch a movie? Imagine that the film starts off in an African village. Ahead of you, you see a hut and can almost smell the smoke rising from a campfire. You hear […]

On the third visit, they kicked his stomach and broke his thumbs. The bones cracked like an electrical charge shooting through his entire body, exiting via his skull, as if everything he knew, everything he […]

Nightfall
There are stories
no one knows.
High summer.

The sound of tree frogs
coming
from all quarters.

 
Infra Dig
You know how when the sky
goes to hell in the west
there’s inevitably a black do […]



Podcast: Mishaps are not always random.

A short story performed by Jennifer Sims.

Read the story online: Accidents Will Happen by Nancy Christie

Most of the year while I was growing up, my family lived in a seven-room house in Worcester, Massachusetts. It had three bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, and a two-car garage, although we didn’t have two cars y […]

To be no more; sad cure; for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through Eternity,
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated […]

It’s hard to see him as a farmer, isn’t it?
Bending over the rows of lettuce and corn,
feeling the ears between his thumb and forefinger,

all the while remembering breadfruit and mango?
It’s hard to see h […]

Both the Irish and Ukrainian/Russian sides of my family settled in Allegheny County, and the men worked in the steel mills and coal mines. My mother got on a bus one day and moved to central Ohio. She […]

When we lie side-by-side in an afterglow, he says,
I used to be a man of my word. Neither of us wants
to label his intentions, fearful of finding the meaning
in definition. Our fingers come together, […]

A few years back, a new neighbor called. “Katie, there’s an old man leaning against my front wall, should I call the police?”

I pulled my window up and leaned out to look, just two houses over. There was Paul, […]

The sun was warm and bright as we pedaled our way along the new Ring Road encircling the city. On its outskirts we saw many families working there in the Kathmandu valley, women weaving mats, others rhythmically […]

Gary Beaumier is the 1st place winner of Streetlight Magazine’s 2019 Poetry Contest.
Night Train to Paris
Our aged bodies
surrender to the sway
and lurch of the train
as we have passed through
the long […]

National Poetry Month Daily Blog with Poem

Revising a draft, for me, means returning to the poem from several perspectives. I might change the speaker from first person to second or third person, or change the […]

It is the reach and sweep
of the horizon
that seduces the eye
the darker folds of clouds
the insinuation
of rose just above the water
a breeze moist and warm
like the touch of first love

a boat […]

“You can get a wax.” She rubs the stubbly black fuzz on my calves, nodding. “A little long.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been cold.” I feel the need to defend myself to the woman painting my toenails. Suddenly my m […]

I grew up in Southern California with a darkroom in my garage. My father, grandfather and great-grandfather were all photographers. As a child I didn’t spend much time with photography, even though I wa […]

Podcast: Who is inside the front line fighting a disease?

A short story performed by Joe Guay.

Read the story online: The War by Carla Myers