memoir
“You Want Me to Be Happy About Dying” — an essay by Ramona Grigg.

“You Want Me to Be Happy About Dying” — an essay by Ramona Grigg.

Reflections on life, afterlife, and the reality of the dark, dark passage. “Nothing in my life will be erased after I die.” Photo by the author. To most of you out there, I’m old. I’m so old, odds are I’ll probably die soon. You can think on that for a few seconds and move on — easy for you — but me, I’m...
Our Best of the Net nominations, 2020.

Our Best of the Net nominations, 2020.

We give thanks for good work in a difficult time. Image: Jefferson Davis statue on Monument Avenue in Richmond, Virginia. Photograph by Gregory Weatherford. We at Broad Street are proud of everything we publish, and we wish we could nominate all of it for every award out there. Alas, we can choose only a handful....
“Screaming at the Brooklyn Bridge,” a poem by Mari Pack.

“Screaming at the Brooklyn Bridge,” a poem by Mari Pack.

Nobody wants to live with a corpse … Screaming at the Brooklyn Bridge After Robert Lowell’s “Waking in the Blue” * I weigh one hundred and five pounds after my New York breakfast of vanilla Soylent, all I can keep down these days, thanks to the anti-depressant. I swallow it, beige smoothie, every four to six hours....
“On Giving Up Antidepressants During a Pandemic,” an essay by Kirsten Parkinson.

“On Giving Up Antidepressants During a Pandemic,” an essay by Kirsten Parkinson.

The author goes meds-free when the world is having a major depressive episode. “Maybe depression is a normal response to a global pandemic. We don’t really have benchmarks for such an event. If I get down, what can I use to help me bounce back?” * I do not plan to cry. I am lying on...
“I Don’t Want to Go Back,” by Zibby Owens.

“I Don’t Want to Go Back,” by Zibby Owens.

A New Yorker contemplates back-to-school season from the countryside–a mother’s call to arms. “I want to do the right thing. I just don’t know exactly what that is right now.” * I don’t want to go back. As a lifelong New Yorker, I hate to admit that. But it’s true. I’m worried. Worried about what will happen...