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GASTROPODA

Main: Welcome

Cold moon murmur by Annie Cowell

As the moon lifts her swollen self into the dulling sky, some ancient stirring pulls me to the wilderness, where, like an augur, I root...

Grief Poem by Bhavya Bhagtani

My mother knows a trick that turns grief to sugar and she hides it all in her ageing spine. Last winter, a sadness drenched my father-...

Cancer Diary, Geese by Jack B. Bedell

Why do the geese cross the road to the clinic? To get to the other side where the grass is taller and full of feed. They have no idea how...

Autumn Walk by Christina E. Petrides

The fallen leaves scatter like chickens. A squadron of ducks floats on the river, silently paddling upstream, hunting among the rocks and...

A Charming Coterie by Catherine O'Brien

Less make-believe and more, belief-making - is the sea’s love for me. Under a commotion of jealous stars, it rushes around me emptying...

How Should a Person Be by Emma Burger

Emma Burger is a writer, healthcare professional, and end-of-life doula. She splits her time between Ann Arbor, Michigan and New York...

impatiens capensis by nat raum

i hate to wear orange but i can never resist picking the jewelweed flowers which dot the green of county riverbanks—one of five or so...

More Like the Bat by Wren Donovan

Hollow like the leg bone of a bird Fragile like the finger bones of bats Both options offer lightness and allow for flight. Spaces ribbed...

Brontë by Alyssa Walker

The way your chicken pox scar looks like my name, tattooed across your heart. I joke it’s intentional, you love me, can’t live without...

google seach history by Steve Barichko

oldest video ever recorded lost video 1920s france restored remastered monks in a poppy field colorized photo 1850 cameron diaz nip slip...

Two Poems by Rachel Tanner

Leave the Light On Thank you for loving me even when I was easy to love. Did you think I was going to say thank you for loving me when I...

hold the line by L.M. Cole

the margin snails the margin shells edged serrated not a knife they have not split flesh spilt blood and...

Driving in the Desert by Suzy Eynon

My sister and I drive home in the desert on Lone Mountain Road. We approach a dip in the street as a sea of hornworms—Manduca...

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