• About submissions

    Please note that NWW is chang­ing its sub­mis­sion pol­i­cy. Going for­ward we will accept sub­mis­sions the first two weeks of each month. Work received out­side this peri­od will be returned unread. Thank you for your inter­est and understanding.

  • Sarah Freligh ~ Skinny Dip

    We do it on nights when the stars hang low and heavy, ripe fruit in a black bowl of sky, nights when we’re so stoned we make bets about when the stars will fall on us. We’re always stoned, so what? The guy from Detroit is the first to take off –more

  • Chelsea Voulgares ~ Lost & Found

    I’d been wan­der­ing the mall for hours, so I vis­it­ed the man at the Lost & Found. I’m miss­ing my friend, I said.

    You can see we don’t have any adult women here. He ges­tured toward the met­al racks of –more

  • Sandra Kolankiewicz ~ Three Poems

    Day of the Dead

    We know by now you could still call, tap that
    low land­line volt­age to let us know we
    can let go of you, lay you in that basket
    of rush­es that floats away in our minds,
    finds you liv­ing with a pharaoh until
    you return to –more

  • Philip James Shaw ~ prepositions for elijah

    [ prepo­si­tions no. 1 decem­ber 2 twen­ty nineteen ]

    In the tra­di­tions of many, 

    chairs are left emp­ty for a patron, set for a par­tic­u­lar saint that our reli­gions call for in our most spe­cif­ic of moments, –more

  • M. Athar Tahir ~ A Wrestler’s Quartet

    Sonnet XCVII

    Soon after the call to pre-dawn prayers
    We lads of the neigh­bour­hood gath­ered at
    The dirt-pit to car­ry out our labours.
    First the soil was raked for peb­bles that

    Could injure. Then pulling logs and running,
    Sit-ups with neck heavy with a stone –more

  • Myna Chang ~ Like a Starward Rocket

    Ten-year-old Albert Rodriguez sat crossed-legged on the floor, as close to the tele­vi­sion as his teacher would let him. It was 1969. Men walked on the moon and lit­tle migrant boys were allowed to watch tele­vi­sion in the school library dur­ing lunch –more

  • Lisa Berglund ~ Two Cape Cod Poems

    Newcomb Hollow

    By unspo­ken accord, at Newcomb Hollow
    We always turn to the left
    And head past the outliers
    To where the last tide leaves the beach sand-swept.

    For forty years, our eyes scanned the narrow
    Lines of weed and driftwood
    As we walked, heads –more

  • Kathryn Silver-Hajo ~ Saturdays At The Souk

    (After Chaibia Talal “Souk,” 1990)

    Since Fatma and Zaineb turned four­teen, their moth­er let them go to the mar­ket alone. They knew Mama want­ed to rest before mak­ing a big lamb and veg­etable tagine for din­ner and it was a chance for them to slip –more

  • Stuart Ross ~ The Zionists

    The new­ly­weds laze on their sec­tion­al, watch­ing sea­son eleven of Jewish Drama.

    The hus­band hides mar­i­jua­na in his shoes, but why, dope is legal.

    At Target they buy every­thing that’s not on their list—guns, because Target doesn’t sell guns, Target –more

  • Eliot Li ~ Dignity

    Dr. Betty Liu is about to put her hand around anoth­er man’s penis for the first time since her hus­band died.


  • Pavle Radonic ~ One Piece Dragon

    For read­ers with good Mandarin—back-alley Mandarin it might be—the sig­nif­i­cance of the term is per­haps appar­ent. The guess would be street lan­guage passed into the halls of the Imperial Palace; nev­er for­mal­ly –more

  • Nathaniel Duggan ~ Red Ocean

    All morn­ing Henry has been think­ing about how the end of his­to­ry is over. It’s Tuesday. No one is respon­si­ble for any­thing. At any giv­en moment, bil­lions of peo­ple across the plan­et are qui­et­ly scream­ing inside their heads. Billions are just think­ing, –more

  • Tim Micek ~ Dream

    I had decid­ed to kill myself. There were two things that I had done. One was worse than the oth­er; both were unforgivable.

    It was easy to choose death in those days. All you had to do was fill out a form; it asked you why you want­ed to kill your­self. –more

  • Nicholas Clemente ~ The Way to Philadelphia

    They say he left one day. His house­keep­er poked her head in when he was pack­ing and he told her he was going on vaca­tion. He gave the same sto­ry to a friend who want­ed to get din­ner the next night. They found his phone with all his con­tacts in the –more