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2 Poems

blame grows small in the moth’s circling / day to day the slightest tooth loosens / a landscape changes until returning by habit


Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction   

The Ocean Won't Give Him Back to Us

You have found out that someone dies every two seconds. This shouldn’t make you feel better, but it does.

The Evangelist

He never finished a performance without making a prediction. His predictions, if right, would immediately boost his prestige and reverence so much so that when he passed his offering bowl around afterwards people would be more than willing to part with their hard-earned cash.

Can I Have a Hug First?

As a witness should I run to her? Make sure she's not suffering a stroke or an aneurysm? I pictured a headline demanding the whereabouts of a witness who'd left the scene of a potential homicide.

Matters of Consequence

The other day I received my first offer for term life insurance (how are corporations so prescient?), which has the effect of reminding a man he’s going to die, just as a baby has the effect of reminding a man that if he dies, it shouldn’t be for nothing.

From the Archives

Three Found Poems: Virginia Woolf's The Waves

I see the moon—flickering, broken leaning against the sky—and am afraid.

Oh, How Vital They Are to This World

And there they are, two little boys, Jacob with his face scrunched in agony, and tears and a nub of his finger on the floor near the closet...

Birthday Poem

Due to gulfcoastmag.org's responsive design, this poem is best viewed in desktop mode to preserve the line breaks as they were orignially intended by the…

Fish Were Drowning

She said that because his mother had given birth to him in a tub filled with day-old water and bless-ed salt, Atar‘atheh must have been responsible for his conception in the first place.

From the Blog

MASS CULTURE AND THE AMERICAN POET:
THE POEM AS VACCINATION

I once drove around southwest Arizona with a photographer named Pedro, from Mexico City. His specialty was making ethnographic forays into North America,…

Travels with Steve, and Good Writing

My old friend and former teacher Steve Orlen and I walked many miles together along the wide avenues of Tucson, Arizona. Our promenades usually took place…