Rimbaud’s “Vowels” is no longer poetry’s ultimate synesthetic orgy: that honor now belongs to the entirety of Catherine Blauvelt’s debut collection, Here High Note, High Note.… Read More Review: Here High Note, High Note by Catherine Blauvelt
There was a boy who found a dead hummingbird next to a deflated mylar balloon. … Read More Micro Prose: Soft Pink Light by Erin Lyndal Martin
The dank lake alcove is shellacked with lily pads. My legs tangle the underwater stems, submerging the pads where I swim, the water, lukewarm tea.… Read More Micro Prose: Three Pieces by Jasmine Dreame Wagner
When I pulled away the hospital sheet, I asked Jared, “Do you like them?” and he whistled a long note, then rubbed his hands together.… Read More Micro Prose: How to Wake Up in Her Sleep by Christopher DiCicco
“Lipless” was selected by Matthew Salesses as the winner of the 2016 New South Writing Contest. Check out Eric’s interview with Assistant Editor Jamey McDermott, and read his prize-winning story… Read More Featured Fiction: Lipless by Eric Schlich
“Against Naming,” was selected by Anya Silver as the winner of New South’s 2016 Writing Contest. Check out her interview with Poetry Editor Anna Sandy, and read/listen to Julia’s prize-winning poem… Read More Featured Poetry: Against Naming by Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach
They wore rings on their toes and billowing pajama pants that let their legs shine through when they walked circles around Episcopal churchyards during Sunday services.… Read More Micro Prose: The New Yorkers of Tidewater by Christina Dalcher
One tiny insufficient winter, the whole world gradually blew away. Every minute, every hour, every day, a little bit – robin’s egg, paper plane, rogue pizza menu –was gone.… Read More Micro Prose: The Very Last Thing by Temim Fruchter
Tonight, as we walked back to our hostel in the little outskirt where we are staying, we saw a dog on the road, and beneath that dog we saw a second dog and beneath that second dog we saw the deep and unending darkness.… Read More Micro Prose: Two Pieces by Kaj Tanaka
There are an unquantified number of stops. One knows a train is passing by the streak of warm light from its windows. … Read More Micro Prose: Three pieces by Kit Emslie
