Search All Winners

Name Sort descending Genre Year
Samuel Kọ́láwọlé Fiction 2025
Tony Kushner Drama 1990
Natalie Kusz Nonfiction 1989
Suji Kwock Kim Poetry 2006
Catherine Lacey Fiction 2016
Mary LaChapelle Fiction 1988
Rattawut Lapcharoensap Fiction 2010
Rickey Laurentiis Poetry 2018
Victor LaValle Fiction 2004
Andrea Lawlor Fiction 2020
Amy Leach Nonfiction 2010
Li-Young Lee Poetry 1988
Hilary Leichter Fiction 2026
Suzannah Lessard Nonfiction 1995
Dana Levin Poetry 2005
Mark Levine Poetry 1993
Yiyun Li Fiction 2006
Ralph Lombreglia Fiction 1998
Ralph Lombreglia Nonfiction 1998
Layli Long Soldier Poetry 2016
Claire Luchette Fiction 2025
Ling Ma Fiction 2020
Nathaniel Mackey Fiction 1993
Nathaniel Mackey Poetry 1993
Rosemary Mahoney Nonfiction 1994
Terese Marie Mailhot Nonfiction 2019
Megha Majumdar Fiction 2022
Mona Mansour Drama 2012
Micheline A. Marcom Fiction 2006
Ben Marcus Fiction 1999
J.S. Marcus Fiction 1992
Anthony Marra Fiction 2012
Dionisio D. Martínez Poetry 1993
Nina Marie Martínez Fiction 2006
Cate Marvin Poetry 2007

Selected winners

Shubha Sunder
2025
Optional Practical Training: A Novel

I paused outside Porter Square Station, in my wet clothes, to observe what a sign there called a kinetic sculpture—three elevated red objects shaped like tongues, tumbling about their axes and orbiting a tall white pole. My thoughts circled back to Theta’s shocked expression at my rent, which led me to review my predicted costs—food, transportation, utilities—and wonder if I’d overlooked something. After a brief trance, I descended a long escalator to the commuter rail platform and boarded the train to Wilton. Soon I was passing the same backyards and open spaces I’d sped by in March, no longer barren and covered with dirty snow, but green, with that profusion of young spring leaves I associated with Impressionist paintings. A pond slid into view, its edges blurred by clumps of reeds. The rain started again. It drew long diagonal streaks across the windows. Anyone want to get off at Brandeis? the conductor called as she strode up the aisle. That was a question, she added cheerfully. Not a threat.

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Mona Mansour
2012
Humana Festival 2012
The Complete Plays

BEDER: (fuming) Independence Day fireworks. How can the Israelis call it Independence Day and not choke on the words? They celebrate forcibly removing people from their homes? Killing men, women, children? This is cause for a party?

 

ADHAM: Let’s not get political.

 

BEDER: Who’s getting political?

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Kevin Kling
1993
On Stage with Kevin Kling

CHAIRMAN FRANCIS: Our church is the street, our faith is the people, and our laws are constantly changing. If a law offends us, we pluck it out. If a minister offends us, we pluck him out and elect a new minister who is young and strong and can recognize evil’s ever-changing face. We don’t believe in miracles, we believe in action. But action takes money. Mr. Chairman, the church of Democratic Progression needs your financial support. Now, Mr. Chairman, how much would you pay to nip evil in the bud? Now I’m not talking about wiping out evil entirely, just your own little personal dark speck. Would you pay forty dollars, Mr. Chairman? Thirty dollars? Twenty dollars, the price of four filthy movies? NO. Mr. Chairman, for just fifteen dollars a month you can keep a chairman, like myself, on the streets fighting evil on your behalf.

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Thomas Sayers Ellis
2005
The Maverick Room
Poems

Go Ju go Ju go.

Lightskinned Rainbow

eclipsed Tick Tock,

his chocolate walk-partner.

Incestuous Pootchie and Tan.

Both Frogs. Squirrel. Crazy ass Sponge.

Bama Duke’s lopsided,

sticky daughter, Peaches.

Out b-shaped barber,

Blinky. We miss you,

 

Missy, rest in peace.

John Rocks-on-Rocks.

The Young Dillingers.

Freckles versus Baby Tim.

Cabalou stuttering,

i-m-m-mi-t-ta-ting Johnny Lips.

Hillbilly, Lefty, Itchy and Skip.

Dootie Bug’s first

baby’s mama, leaving.

Tootie had Fin.

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Tracy K. Smith
2005
Life on Mars
Poems

Some of the prisoners were strung like beef

From the ceilings of their cells. “Gus”

Was led around on a leash. I mean dragged.

Others were ridden like mules. The guards

Were under a tremendous amount of pleasure.

I mean pressure. Pretty disgusting. Not

What you’d expect from Americans.

Just kidding. I’m only talking about people

Having a good time, blowing off steam.

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Yoon Choi
2024
Skinship: Stories

By the end of the day, Ji-ho had moved things around, managing, even, to reposition an oak dresser by himself, whereas our mother and I, for all the years we would occupy the middle room, would never take down my cousin’s Star Wars poster, his Carnegie Mellon pennant. Every now and then, she and I would start up the same old argument about who slept on the floor and who slept on the twin bed. Each of us trying to urge comfort on the other. Neither of us knowing how to commit an act of selfishness.

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