Gulf Coast Online Exclusives


The Pirate Story

Tom Macher

I learned to sleep as light as a new mother, in increments of minutes rather than hours, listening as I dreamed for a rustling of clothing, a knife unsheathed, and then I stopped sleeping altogether.


Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction   

Excerpts from Katabasis Ex-Voto

Carla Faesler; Trans. Karen Lepri

We moved on low power since the noise neutralizers haven’t thawed from everything. We found rudimentary structures seemingly abandoned...

Swimming Lessons

Samantha Cohen

We were in awe of her. She sat in class, perfectly wrapped and folded, each of her parts a clean extension of each of her others...

Stag, Emblem, Anthem

Joni Wallace

...someone’s / white Dodge pickup blinkering down / the mountain, on the windshield / needle-likes, double columns, pentameters, / Bentley’s iconographic crystals / playing into zero visibility.

House on Toluca

Jesus De La Torre

Bars or no bars, if you did have something worth having, they’d take it, whether you were ridiculous about home security or not.

From the Archives

Two Fishermen

Geoffrey Nutter

For God's sake, / have a little consideration! Why wake him? / Another fisherman was sitting on a stone block, / a stone block glittering with mica.

Chicxulub Köçekçe / Pioneer Species

Kenan Ince

Like those jellyfish that swell with future oxygen, / I live into my gender, balloon constantly rising

COMPARTMENTALIZATION, OR, SOME THOUGHTS ON BOXES

Katie Bellamy Mitchell

Two sides of what used to be one wooden box hang on the walls of the Smart Gallery in Chicago. At first glance they are unremarkable: vaguely Italian-looking landscapes populated by two vaguely Italian-looking lovers, all flowing hair and slit silk. In the panel on the left, a woman lies improbably across some rocky ground—perhaps sleeping or dead—while a man leans on his staff and peers over her with a neutral expression. In the panel on the right, in front of a section of silvery sea, the same woman stands apart from the man who reaches toward her. His mouth is open. Her hands cross upwards into two woody stems and blossom into the unmistakable broccoli-floret silhouette of a tree: Daphne, turning into a laurel to escape the god Apollo.

Stag, Emblem, Anthem

Joni Wallace

...someone’s / white Dodge pickup blinkering down / the mountain, on the windshield / needle-likes, double columns, pentameters, / Bentley’s iconographic crystals / playing into zero visibility.

From the Blog

You Are Here: An Interview with Eduardo Portillo

“When I built my first stretcher, it was like finding a big surprise. It let me reinforce what I had been doing with painting, which was playing around…

Martin Riker's Debut is a Modern Recalibration of Quirky 1836 Novel Sheppard Lee

Samuel Johnson’s Eternal Return demonstrates how beginning with a familiar object of interest (a quirky nineteenth century novel, for instance)…