Emily's Tyger | Steve Reames

How much starlight would it take
to make you sore, shepherd, afraid
of the dark or of indifferent cold?

Awakened by the slap
of single-handed night, I shudder
at the prickle of stars still as air.

In the firmament,
winter solstice burns bone zero.
Terror spreads like glory in my skull.


Taken from the 1994 issue of The Wire Harp.

Moon | Lindsay Williams

the moon,
when passing by,
became snarled in the overhanging branches of a tree.
I strove to free it
but, evading me,
it skillfully unspun the trap
and sailed away
beyond my grasp.


Taken from the 2004 issue of The Wire Harp.

Nausea | Bonnie Haines

I was afraid I'd barf up my guts,
and sure enough,
that's just what happened.
It took a long while to get all
the pieces stuffed back in there,
and I wasn't sure where those
loops of intestine belonged,
much less the elusive spleen
we all read about but never see.

So now I'm settling down to sleep,
hoping I did it all right.
Never happened to me before.


Taken from the 1993 issue of The Wire Harp.

Submission Guidelines

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3. No more than 6 literary submissions in total, please (some may be poems, some may be short stories, some may be essays, but no more than 6 total). Poems: typed single-spaced. Stories and essays: typed double-spaced, limit the length of each story or essay to 6 pages. For these prose submission, please write “fiction” or “nonfiction” on the top. Thanks!

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For further information, contact: laurar@spokanefalls.edu or conniew@spokanefalls.edu

Preferred Submission Deadline: 3 Dec 2009 (end of Fall 09)
Absolute Latest Deadline: 10 Jan 2010 (2nd Monday of Winter ‘11)

Invitation to Bathe | Steve St. George

What began with the perfection
of a liquid moon
And the mystical circular ripples
Caused by the tossing of a coin
Imprinted with the image of a dancing satyr
Has ended in a devious distortion
of the pond

But I have dipped my toes
In the warm sweet waters of madness
And have chosen rather to suffer
The indignity of my uncleanliness
For the preservation of my sanity
And the quiescence of a liquid moon


Taken from the 1988 issue of The Wire Harp.

Triolet | Kathleen Stevens

In order to get grades of A
I spend my time in study.
I never stop to rest or play
In order to get grades of A
Etched on my tombstone it will say
In letters grim and muddy:
In order to get grades of A
I spent my time in study.


Taken from the 1984 issue of The Wire Harp.

American Falls Reservoir | Dolores Lee

My knees scabbed thick
like red-brown worms,
I kneel beside the body
on the rough planks of the dock.
The carp's puckered lips
open and close as if to suck
water from air,
air from water.
Inky pupils spread
into gray clouds.
Dipping my left hand
into the reservoir
I feel the dingy lukewarm water
swirl between my fingers:
And think of Mama's kitchen sink
full of soaking dishes.
I nudge the fish
over the deck with my shoe.
Its body lands silently and sinks
deep into the reservoir.
It floats back up to me--
on its side,
eyes open wide.


Taken from the 2000 issue of The Wire Harp.