Gulf Coast Online Exclusives


Extasis en La Frontera

David Antonio Reyes

Forget the finger-flipping road rage, smile for the tiny waving palm. Bobble-hand Pope Francis figurines for your dashboards are available at the Madonna Shop. We got the rosaries, t-shirts, decals, key chains, all the official items. I got six rosaries.


Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction   

Extasis en La Frontera

David Antonio Reyes

Forget the finger-flipping road rage, smile for the tiny waving palm. Bobble-hand Pope Francis figurines for your dashboards are available at the Madonna Shop. We got the rosaries, t-shirts, decals, key chains, all the official items. I got six rosaries.

Three Fictions

W. Todd Kaneko

It’s late on a Saturday night and Metalhead is at some kid’s basement party. The kid got the new Slayer album that afternoon and has it blaring because his parents are not home. Rockgod holds both hands up in the air like he is prey for bandits, but the rest of his body convulses, his head shaking back and forth, up and down and windmilling along with the drum beat. Metalhead laughs and then there is a body careening into him, pushing him into another kid who is jumping and shimmying against the wall because heavy metal is the stuff that binds kids together, the fray that keeps their blood inside them. When Metalhead’s sister has her friends over, they dance in the living room to Madonna or Culture Club while his father complains that the music is too loud. Metalhead can feel the guitar in his teeth, can feel the speakers’ rumble deep in his chest.

From the Archives

The Nurses of My Dengue Fever

Jason Nemec

She would fly from the islands and fall in love with a white boy like me, start a family, get lost in a medium-sized Midwestern city...

A Missing Goldfish

Yoshihiro Okumura

Today, however, all I could think of was the nose of Gogol. The image of a human-sized nose banging on my door.

Allen Ginsberg’s Apology for Buddha

Wang Ping

It was the very first poetry exchange since China opened its door to the west, a confluence of great poets across the Pacific.

Myths Do Furnish a Room

Francesca Abbate

"And then it was May, time to let the grapes grow and fish anchovies;" or so it went for centuries in the town of Collioure, which attributed its escape…

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,…