Salamander 2024 Fiction Contest

SUBMIT: May 1 through June 2, 2024 | READING FEE: $15

SUBMIT ENTRIES NOW

Inner-City Mentor Program Tours Local College

poetry
  Like you, they’d heard the stories. They stood by a founder’s statue in Faculty Glade. Terms— institute, benefit—were tossed at them. Nothing about conquest, or captives. No questions. Attention…

Then There

poetry
  This spring we planted again, turned the earth and pushed the seeds into the ground with our thumbs just deep enough, then covered them with the compost loam that…

for Majnoon

poetry
  —after the 1976 Hindi film Laila Majnu   Death is not so cruel.   Does the nightingale not see the bleeding rose, how she tears her collar, her very…

A Robe of this World

poetry
  Look! God descends+++ like fog upon the city, +clouding mirror, horizon— +offering little more than the illusion +of dream. ++++The parched ++hold their tongues +++to the air, ++++heavy with…

The coming of spring

poetry
  —after Faiz   He found in the leaves a mixture of dread and shaking hands. He smiled just once before death.   The lake flowed in the wind like…

Spring in the Suburbs

poetry
  is a revolution long in the planning, crocuses rising up despite the night’s   last frost, their conviction enflaming the wide lawns green with reckless youth.   Now, everywhere,…

Sonetto: A Red Red Rose

poetry
  Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so —Sonnet 54, Shakespeare   Bees are dying in swarms and soon the flowers. What is a sonnet without a red red…

Archipelago

poetry
  after the Islands of Chagos para mi Carlos Arturo   After Tuvalu, did we really try hard enough? One, two degrees, chronicles of floods. Still around us are deniers…

The Warming

poetry
  A blizzard wraps me in white shapes, white lies. Uprooted too soon, I seek omen in a bed of white earth.   My mother once said, Go and find…

The Bone Saw Speaks

poetry
  By the time they plugged me in— electricity enlivening me the way God courses through the socket two bodies make— the man was already dead and did not know…

One Day, My Body

poetry
  I’m tethered since the man on the ridge,   limited to the path between the backyards and the cemetery.   This body is a rope that swings me over…