Gulf Coast Online Exclusives


Cheerio Petals

Amanda Auerbach

The color yellow and the red heart on the box remind me parts / of childhood are nice not / embarrassing. Does that include eating / cheerios with fingers?


Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction   

Crackhead Clint Will See You Now

Thomas Kearnes

Here it was laid out: we’d tricked with Clint a few times over the years. Sure, he was a geek, but he possessed this obscure magnetism. He was so indelibly himself, we allowed ourselves, when with him, to believe that the established rules of conduct, constraining all men of our tribe, could be ignored.

The Evangelist

Kathleen Blackburn

I was twelve, with little idea of the drying sediment, the vanishing well, under my feet, though as far as I could tell West Texas was desert. A shrug in the middle of forgotten. At the time, I feared one thing only: Dad would die because of me.

2 Poems

Wendy Xu

And if they’re missing / in inaction, forgive them / Their useless pearls, nouns

Salvation

Jonathan Louis Duckworth

Rationalizing didn’t help. No matter how much he told himself that this was a different woman, that it couldn’t be the same widow, he couldn’t escape the gut certainty that she was.

From the Archives

The Curiosities

Amaud Jamaul Johnson

The year, this distance— when brightly his face hums and ticks like a washed penny and you can see him now as a co-worker or neighbor…

2 Poems

Jane Huffman

I have a worm / beneath my hair — / a future worm, / a nerve / from the eternal / present.

Dear Cyntoia Brown

francine j. harris

I wonder when you push at mirrors, if they slip off in your hands. I would / like to hold you, who you were at sixteen with the you I was when I was / sixteen.

The Poster

Weike Wang

The more I looked at her the more she seemed angry. This was probably because I was breaking into John’s computer again.

From the Blog

BLM Resources & Links

In response to anti-Black racist violence, help us support Black lives through literature and art, as well as efforts for justice in Houston, by donating…

D.A. Powell on "The Mad Place" of Poetry

"You can use language and be absolutely true to what you’re saying, and at the same time people have an opportunity to misread it as something scintillating…