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GASTROPODA

 

All We Eat is Words by Emily Baber

Now all we eat is words. We used to eat sorrel and pawpaw and hen of the woods. We used to grow our own galangal and hot peppers and...

Lost in Landscapes by Rachel Canwell

We have come here to walk, convinced that a change of scenery and aimless miles are the answer, or the beginnings of an answer. An...

The Kitchen by Emily K. Iekel

after James McNeill Whistler She stands at the window hair tucked away hands on stone still. Morning light gold through tapping young...

Cords by Bethany Jarmul

My newborn is blue, not breathing, her umbilical cord wrapped three times around her neck. “Is she okay? Is she okay?” My voice catches...

Cherries in the Snow by Katy Goforth

The old neighbor lady passed on a hot Monday morning. No one found her until the Mobile Meals breakfast and lunch stacked up against the...

Introductions by Lori Cramer

Caught off guard by the question, I blurt the first thing that comes to mind: that I believe the twelve-to-six curveball is by far the...

Two Prose Poems by Ann Kathryn Kelly

Struggle, in Orange Orange, the color of sunsets missed all summer as I retreated to a bedroom, shades drawn. Orange in my core simmers,...

The Test Track by Emily Hessney Lynch

It was a cool gray morning when I arrived at The Facility. They were expecting me–I’d booked The Experience yesterday. “Mr. Backus,...

Wittenborg Woods by John Tessitore

A step past the marker and I lose the path, sink in a mud slough, fern beds, skunk cabbage, the marish and mire I’m not meant to walk...

Too Many Perfect Teeth by Laila Amado

She spends her weeks in the cubicle, passing documents up and down the food chain. Men in suits roll past her like waves in the ocean,...