
ALT Poem for a Scorpion Child Begin: a memory from before you can remember much, the kind recounted to you so often you've constructed it for yourself. A woman came to the door. You watched behind your father's legs. She wanted to sell your house and you cried until she left. Admit it: you were the child who cried too much. You lacked a layer. You wanted to be a scorpion but you weren't a scorpion. You were whatever an exoskeleton protects. Soft interiors.

ALT The Graywolf Press Nonfiction Prize Open for submissions Feb. 1 - 29 A $20,000 advance and publication by Graywolf Press will be awarded to the most promising and innovative literary nonfiction project by a writer not yet established in the genre. The winning author will also receive a $2,000 stipend intended to support the completion of their project.





































