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  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    I wasn’t allowed to call Gran’s funeral a funeral. The term “funeral” was too funereal, said my dad. Go figure. All the women at the memorial looked the same: beehives and rogue from the 50s. Their southern accents stuck like molasses in the heat. The house was too small for everyone. ...
  • Nonfiction > Travel & Culture
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    For all of my 16 years I've lived and written in New York City. New York is where dreams are realized. But growing up in a city of dreams makes them almost taboo. The “huddled masses yearning to breathe free” flock to New York, backpacks heavy with dreams. Maybe they're battered, or broken,...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    My father was never more than a handful of photographs. At thirteen, I could count the things I knew about him on one hand: His name was Joshua Anderson. He was a pilot. He had an ex-wife, Lynn. He had a son, me. And he left them. The black and white snapshots I had were in th...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Patterned lives like cooking recipes That Mom went all the way to the deli To satisfy And Grandma says the roast doesn’t taste quite right And sometimes They forget you excused yourself twenty three minutes ago You hate the way you identify with That trash Quinn listens to on the radio ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    If I had a nickel… If you had a nickel, Mother, dearest The bills wouldn’t yellow And the lights would stay Illuminating, Revealing, If you had a nickel Nothing would matter Because, Mother, dearest Nickels weigh more than broken hearts And nickels fill stomachs faster than ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The probing eyes Search me with their cerulean fanaticism And send the pumping pores of my heart Flying to the utmost reaches of space Shrouded by the iridescent rings of Saturn So cosmically fixed in their Interminable orbit That my pulse, my sweat, Cannot Pierce the atmosphere ...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    “Ana,” Seth’s voice broke through the static. “I need to talk to you.” He squinted up at the white sunlight of early spring and tried to shake the metallic breath of the subway from his jacket. Seth hated the subway. He shuffled down the crowded sidewalk, clutching the cheap cell phone to ...
  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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