An installment of Chris Offutt’s Omnivore column, Cooking with Chris.  Every prepper magazine carried an article on water, mainly because there are a lot of overpriced devices out there for gathering, purifying, and transporting it. This gave me a sense of… by Chris Offutt | Feb, 2019

A Points South essay from the Spring 2019 issue Daleel is three years old, which is around eight human years. While we walk, he is distracted by any and all sources of food, which in this desert is a surprising… by Sasha von Oldershausen | Mar, 2019

An installment in John T. Edge’s Points South column, Local Fare. Calamity and travel arrest time. They beg focus and feed insights. Tourism has taken on some of the functions that religion once served. Here in America, we have ritualized restaurant… by John T. Edge | Mar, 2019

A feature short story from the Spring 2019 issue. Their romance has started in earnest this summer, but the prologue took up the whole previous year. All fall and spring they had lived with exclusive reference to each other, and… by Susan Choi | Feb, 2019

A feature essay from the Spring 2019 issue. As in all cities, the story of displacement and discrimination is as old as the municipality’s. And while it might seem like a somewhat ahistorical cheap shot to draw a direct, incriminating… by Micah Fields | Mar, 2019

 A Letter from the Editor, Spring 2019. Though I don’t believe new parents must be homebound, another truth of my current season is that my movements are mostly limited to house and office and places in between. So more than… by Eliza Borné | Mar, 2019

Poems from the Spring 2019 issue. I didn’t see the line when I crossed it—only light, making everything new; here, they say the winters spill out, white a boll inside my palm; here, gold adorns the trees, the sun sheds its effervescence through the… by Ashley M. Jones | Mar, 2019

A Points South essay from the Spring 2019 issue Listen to the first two notes Raphael plays on his solo on Nelson’s “Georgia on My Mind” and it’s impossible not to hear Mickey singing the word “Georgia” through the instrument,… by Jonathan Bernstein | Mar, 2019

May 29, 2018

In Lament from Epirus, Christopher C. King finds his musical and spiritual Elysium. 

I call two places my home: I call my record room my home and I call Epirus my home. Where I was born and bred and raised up, and scarcely have left from, really bears little resemblance to what it was when I was growing up, so it’s hard to call it home anymore.

February 15, 2018

The photographs in Morgan Ashcom’s What the Living Carry are situated in the fictional Southern town of Hoys Fork, a community inspired by the rural Virginia landscape of Ashcom’s childhood and by William Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha County.

September 05, 2017

A poem from the Fall 2017 issue.

There were more rebel flags and gun shops 
in Indy than Virginia, fewer mountains, 
less green for our eyes, and our cat 
wasn’t born there, she was born here, 
under the house, and if nothing 
April 25, 2017

From 1830 to 1860, Richmond, Virginia, was the largest supplier of enslaved Africans on the east coast of the United States.

April 03, 2017

In Take Me to the River, Michael Kolster explores the Androscoggin, Schuylkill, James, and Savannah Rivers as they emerge from two centuries of industrial use and neglect.

March 20, 2017
Bittersweet on Bostwick Lane explores the landscape of the artist’s childhood in all its loss and sweetness, her own memories inspired by and intertwined with stories told by her oldest neighbor.
March 07, 2017

The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded by Molly McCullly Brown is out today from Persea Books. 

February 21, 2017

I’ll See You On The Beach addresses sites that commemorate the American legacies of exploration, conquest, and the instillation of nationalism by way of stimulating displays.

March 01, 2014
Deer snorts, dog snarls—that’s all I hear. Then I see brown and white fur, clumps of it floating in water, the stream pinking with blood. Deer and dogs in water. Jake, ninety pounds of shepherd, taking the doe’s hooves and teeth. Becca and Little B, smaller but still good-sized, at the rear biting fur and flesh, getting kicked, holding on.
October 28, 2016
A poem from the Fall 2016 issue. 
 
What are the details I’ve left out? That I’m not
 
poor. That I’ve never had to buy food
at the Dollar Store at the end of the month.
 
That I’m relentlessly straightforward lately,
which has to do with my need to tell you
 
exactly what happened, because what happened
is so unclear.
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