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GASTROPODA

Main: Welcome

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...

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,...

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...

Grey Gardens by miss macross

Oh, my mother [rolls hands] you know, [pauses to smoke] she used to tell me, “Darling, when the sea foam crests, the ocean waves are made...

; by Bex Hainsworth

A flower with a single petal, plucked: he loves me not. Sideways glance, pursing of lips, progeny of silence. The insides of a button....

Passerine by Rowan Waters

Walking now through the year I tried to fly, when I hung at the bottom of a chimney, how I landed on the wall above the piano, how I...

Slugged by Annie Cowell

Found, flaccid, amongst my greens, I scooped you on the shovel’s tip and lobbed you over the wall. Repulsive as a toddler with a snotty...

Two Poems by Rebecca Dempsey

Country garden mosquitos skate over decay translucent greens marble murky concrete surfaces end papering the end betraying stagnant mud...

Caterpillar by Jean Velasco

Jean Velasco is a writer, EFL teacher, and translator from Naarm (Melbourne). Her work has appeared in Kill Your Darlings, Overland,...

Plummet by Emily Benson

I leap from the edge of the marble quarry. Through the woodsmoke I fall; through the sea of stars beyond your eyes; through the rain as I...

Two Poems by McCaela Prentice

HONEYMOON everything smells like honeysuckle at the wedding and I think what it must be to love like leaving a tab open or a thrown...

Medusa by Yue Chen

The black iris dribbling down the fencepost. Don’t lie to me—I know you’ve seen it, too, soft moss & wet carpet of autumnal blood. Don’t...

Three Poems by Samari Zysk

the birds, the birds for aster, what i think of around you – wings rushing up in a massive unfolding, reshaping. we all relearn as adults...

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