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  • Nonfiction > Educator of the Year
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    Dear Coach Root, Yeah, it’s true, I kind of hate you. It’s also entirely true that you inspire me. Seriously, Coach, though the Most Inspirational award went from Point A (you) to Point B (me), it’s a symbiotic relationship. I am inspired just as much by you as you by me. Possibly more. ...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I’m lost. I just love. Maybe I should give up on this. What’s in it for me? How much do I care? Is that what I’m worried about? Personal gain? Whatever he wants, I’ll do it. (Some reasonable limits may apply.) If he wants me to leave him completely alone, or be his friend, ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    “Good morning,” I said to Orion, as I left the high school heading east this morning, and he didn’t say anything (or maybe he did and I couldn’t hear) but I swear he twinkled at me. I head out to Legion and he disappears under the streetlights I plod up the hill and he’s there, f...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    One of my favorite poems ends with the line, "Like holding your breath for ten years only to find time not fear cured your hiccups." Maybe it's like that. Like discovering you really can act. (Sort of.) Like taking a leap. Or a picture of the Space Needle and cutting it ...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    So, once upon a time in a faraway land, there lived a lovely maiden who didn’t have a name. Nope. None. She was nameless in the worst sense of the word. She had absolutely no identity. They didn’t even call her “the maiden without a name.” She was the best definition of a nonentity. Well,...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I love you, he told her, In 44-pt Zapfino, the tendrilly serifs curling around her, like his arm might have if he were bolder. Later they fought, her anger hitting the air in 108-pt Tekton, poking and biting and throwing curveballs off the ever-so-slightly snaking serifs. Afterwards...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    First byline, however unofficial Eyelashes too long for my face Tattered, paint-spattered Sweatshirt sleeves Leaves torn from Swedish verb bibles Weave me together Old choir music Newspapers Long since filed away Race numbers my pitiful time scribbled on them The sea of jazz in my head ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I The walls of my kitchen will be yellow, and I will make cinnamon rolls and hum the theme from the Man from Snowy River The windows will be open and I wish for words to this tune so I could sing them and I wish also for enough courage enough lightness enough floor of my own to danc...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Are people put together like puzzles? Collages, perhaps? Is each human constructed Like an equation Or a poem? Corner pieces first and glue a little construction paper triangle to the corners of every photo. Find the derivative and a set of real solutions (if there are any) and craft ea...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    smoke like cats' eyes on the horizon watching closely the reflective strips turn with the traffic lights even as we disappear into the abysmal dark on the other side of the intersection stories left untold still echoing along the dark alleys where we run in place, half paralyzed with f...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    what a very new-music sort of day. brand new beginnings, new music to learn, new chords to grow accustomed to. what better way to begin?...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Once immaculate, The rubber casing tore last Night, and I smiled....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I'm running. I cross the bridge of the creek by the golf course. The current moves away in the dark like a thing. * Sometimes when I run (not often) a dead leaf skitters on the wind and scrapes the asphalt in a parking lot behind me. And the stars are bright. Always....
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Only the light over the stove was still on – so old and rickety it emanated a barely detectable electrical hum, and the faint glow that it gave off was yellow and sickly, giving everything around it a similar grim appearance. The window was dark, with the beam of the single faraway streetlight cut...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    We throw off our coats We hope for wings on our feet And we fall in love...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Life is like a puzzle and you're the little kid sitting on the carpet bawling when it doesn't quite fit and continually trying a new piece in that one pesky spot that seemingly has no match. Or you find that one piece you put in with absolute certainty as to how right you ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Blue. I am a freshman. Barely fourteen. Blue like the sky, like the wide blue excitement of my unlived life and unruined naivete, like the eyes of - well, never mind who. They're just blue. Yellow. Summer-like sunshine. I am fifteen now, summer birthdays already gone. I ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    What does it mean to be happy? To have perfectly sculpted and Photoshopped teeth, and a smile serene and gracious enough to seem only slightly condescending? Or does it mean to be content with your own chipped and broken smile? For the driven are never happy, and the happy are never driven, ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Maybe the feel of my skin will be that of a dryer sheet, and I will sink back into soft dewy grass, not knowing nor caring where I am. And maybe the sun will not be up quite yet, but the edge of it yawning over the distant foothills. Maybe the snow will not fall. Maybe the birds will not sin...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    When I was little I sincerely believed there were signposts along the Milky Way. I saw it once, star-spangled road to heaven, in the sky above the north Idaho prairies and the glow of a forest fire just over the next hill. The smell of smoke in our nostrils as we all looked up and ahhed. I ...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Soft and tiny kiss all the world in one second my heart reels, gasping. The look in your eyes Eager and frightened and new I have never seen. The doors open ahead. I thought this day would never Come. It’s worth the wait. Along the Milky Way there are the signposts, waiting. Just...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My father calls it maybe. My mother says vielleicht. I say kanske. Not can-ski, not can-skeh, kanske, cahn-sheh, maybe. Kanske, like chance, but more mystic, infused with Nordic inflection, smacking of the accent I have grown to love. If you pull it apart (to find out how it...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I wish summer would happen to me. I’ve been swimming in a wintry limbo For what seems like far too long. Maybe winter has something to teach me, But please, just let me take the test. I promise I can get through spring Without failing I think. Track season does weird things to the ps...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I’m sorry, but Our relationship Is not working quite The way I would like. You are controlling And mean, And you do not love me, Even though you say you do. I need to find myself. Without you. I need to be on my own for a while, And figure out a thing or two. Sure, you do make me...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    “Let's do something together,” you say. “Like what?” I ask. “Well,” you say, “let's sit and talk on the stone steps after church and laugh about everything and nothing at all. Let's have it be a pure accident. Opportune circumstances. And let's have it be beautiful. ...

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