Salamander 2024 Fiction Contest

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

SUBMIT ENTRIES NOW

The Sky in Purple Robes

poetry
   —after Sappho   When Achilles was born the fates spun two threads: one long & dull, another   ++++++short & golden: knucklebones chucked ++++++into a circle of dust—tumble &…

A Study in Lavender

poetry
  Before dawn stretched her rosy-fingers onto earth, before I threw a stone into the eye- socket of a storm & it broke like a cloud of wasps gone haywire:…

The Fall of the House of Britney

poetry
  I am home with the toilet paper and the vodka and the too-pulpy martini. A glowless fuckery, I am not what Bop wanted me to be. All that Sun-In…

Widow Sugaring for Moths

poetry
  The filmy shapes that haunt the dusk. ++++++—Tennyson, In Memoriam   Whatever fruit is on hand, mash with wine or beer in a slurry, add a couple cups of…

Even After All

poetry
  SEATTLE WOMAN, 42, DIES IN CAR WRECK, BAKERSFIELD, CA FEB. 18, 1962 +++++++—News Headline   Even after all these years, almost 60 or so, or more, it feels like…

Like a Ship

poetry
  I want something like a ship, but not a ship, a way to cross the underlying expanse that isn’t water, but feels like water,   illegible traces of microplastics,…

Poem at the Edge of a Circle

poetry
  My house is not a house of small beautiful things and nothing is ever clean here. A pucker in the doorframe indicates the upper floor will soon fall to…

I Decided I Would Fail at Everything

poetry
  Let my spider plant shrivel in a swim of photons. I found the perfect word and backspaced it out of memory. I slept until everyone slept, then woke to…

I Renounce My Life as a Philodendron

poetry
  Even as telephones buzz and silver voices sing of cash flow strategies, I slump in a shadowed corner by the photocopier and do not make a sound, not a…

Humans Naming Trees

poetry
  willow, sallow, blackthorn thought is made in the mouth   quaking aspen, silver birch pulse is mouth in the wrist   cedar, alder, slippery elm wrist is grief in…

Obituary

poetry
  I welcome emptiness. It is a good start. An empty vessel holds no dynamite. An empty   mind plans no atrocities. Hold my hand and share how it feels,…