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If I’m possessed by a demon, a single solitary demon, that demon’s name is Naia–she’s me.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My Demons

Naia M. Lanton, Columnist/Da Editor • April 24, 2023

I am, I have come to think, chronically possessed. I have had a non-zero number of exorcisms performed on me at this point.  Unfortunately, I can’t say that I’ve ever puked snakes or crawled up...

Poets will sing from the tatters of old books, until we listen to them, and then they will go on singing.

Southern Literary Festival, More or Less

Kelly Foster, Co-Editor in Chief • April 19, 2023
Some polite clapping for Whitman, of course. He was perfectly sensibly senseless; everybody said so, at least everybody that was there, and if you were a person and you were there, then you were allowed to be right about poetry, some of the time. Whitman seems mildly disgruntled as he steps away from the podium. 
Image by Fathromi Ramdlon from Pixabay.

there is nothing but a hole (and other thoughts)

Chris Kalil, Student Contributor • April 17, 2020

nothing – there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing. There should be something. Anything. The tumors in my grandmother’s brain the size of grapes. They moan like animals before they die....

Image from https://pixabay.com/photos/horses-equine-mane-fields-meadows-1150017/.

Horses

Emily Walker, Student Contributor • April 15, 2020

I wish my father had never loved horses. I wish he had never taught me how to love horses. When I look at a horse, instead of thinking of its beauty or the urge I have to ride it bareback, I just think...

Jennifer McIntosh, Learning Young

To The Little Ones I Love

Skynia Butts, Student Contributor • February 27, 2020

To the little ones I love,  I wanted to write you a Baldwinian letter, but I am not James Baldwin. I am not that lyrical or experienced with words. You probably do not even know who Baldwin is at your...