Salamander 2024 Fiction Contest

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

SUBMIT ENTRIES NOW

The Lesson

poetry
  Snakes in the tall grass, sprinklers ticking the first time he forced my head underwater.   I counted seconds in the blue, planetary flecks on the concrete wall underwater.…

The Lesson

poetry
  Snakes in the tall grass, sprinklers ticking the first time he forced my head underwater.   I counted seconds in the blue, planetary flecks on the concrete wall underwater.…

Coyote

poetry
  The scavenger coyotes come at hunters’ shots. My father relates these snippets on the drive to a refuge for an afternoon walk.   I notice, on the middle seat…

Augur of Time

poetry
The will of the tine shall break the soil into lines of seed   seeds   small as beads of sweat   to roll   & neaten our broken soil                    to rise from…

Lucky Penny

poetry
  All day, blue mustangs of clouds charge from west to east, unfinished bodies over us. Though they aren’t animals,   we are, and see equine jawbones in the vapors,…

from Audiology

poetry
  My brain can barely fathom him at all. After the usual kiss, he fades away. But when I wake him he wants me to stay so I do.  He…

Asylum Lake

poetry
  Off the path: the demolished hospital’s littered ravine. Single yellow bricks stamped: Standard Steel, West Branch. Broken plates, the bottom of a mug. Jars, jars, jars, like larvae emerging…

First Born, a glosa

poetry
  now you are darker than I can believe it is not wisdom that I have come to with its denials and pure promises but the absences I cannot set…

Owl

poetry
  The ear is the last face. —Emily Dickinson   Now the owl comes to my sleep, unbidden. I take its call, sculpted and clear, in to the immensity inside…

Saturday Morning, Low Tide

poetry
  Let’s say Heraclitus is right, we can’t swim the same surf twice— the way waves soak into the sand, the patterns left as darker stains that fade when the…

Wild Life

poetry
  The city warns that coyote have been sighted broaching a few neighbors’ yards. Scat & paw prints found come morning. They must be hungry & desperate,   trembling in…

Dew Claws

poetry
  My brand new polydactyl cat uses two extra dewclaws to chase the crumpled pages of mistakes I’ve thrown at the floor. Then he sprays them.   Bored by pleasure,…