Gulf Coast Online Exclusives


The Lord's Earth

Callie Collins

The whole town of Garland sweltered and glistened. There was fog for months that fall, and the sun hung behind it round and shining like the moon or a piece of fruit. It was hard for Roger to stick around, so he didn’t. Then, after some years, men came to his door.


Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction   

Rick Has Died

Nicole Hoelle

The buildings were rundown and whatever light came from them was like the leftover glow of an all-night party. Tonight, those same lights were electrified, lit up along the grid.

Aquamarine

Valerie Duff

Through persimmon curtains, she slept away her infancy. / Waves specked the day-bed where she dreamt / her mother’s best…

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.

Interview: 7 Questions for Megan Mayhew Bergman

Aja Gabel

When I was growing up, I idolized a woman whose animal rescue habits ended up driving her husband away. I think she’s lurking in this story...

From the Archives

Two Poems: King of Pop and Homeopathic

Christopher Salerno

Got to be starting              some thing. My father used to                                  catch and                                           modify minor birds with butcher twine.               Revise each one to be more beautiful.

Letter from Athens, GA

Maggie Colvett

So much goes on without it baffles every time I begin. I read, I go walking. I take long routes past the elementary school, the fidgety, nebulous line at the crosswalk and the swingsets quaking and singing.

Expedition

Cheryl Smart

Away we went, Sissy. Do you remember? Do you remember running across the meadow, into the fields, through the woods until we made it to the red sand...

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...

From the Blog

On Violence

$138,000 into the story, there is nowhere else to go. I spent my twenty-seventh year typing letters of application, the nerves in each hand wrecked by…

On Shame

156,000 into the story, the room is empty.   The man I have started dating listens to my stories of how the dinners at the American Academy would unfold,…