Minimum Fifteen Like any stubborn person, I only checked the weather when I was already outside. Tonight was no exception, only it was a blizzard. The reward for survival was a modest one: a seve...
http://www.cobaltreview.com/nonfiction/2023/09/06/118-nonfiction-by-justin-mcdevitt/
VANILLA the moment I realize I’m empty and feel nothing iswhen the ice cream man asks me about what flavour I wantand I don’t know the answer because I’m emptyand I don’t know whether I l...
http://www.cobaltreview.com/poetry/2023/08/09/poetry-by-inga-piotrowska/
Spatch-Cock’d I stuff the chicken. One hand up and under its skin. My fingers pushing the soft buttery mixture between its skin and flesh, massaging, rolling, caressing its rawness with my butt...
http://www.cobaltreview.com/fiction/2023/07/05/116-fiction-by-laura-j-morris/
Sources Like a horse: Erasure from “The Dead,” James Joyce, Dubliners Her name was: Erasure from “Araby,” James Joyce, Dubliners Justin Hamm’s most recent book is Drinking Guinness ...
http://www.cobaltreview.com/poetry/2023/06/15/115-justin-hamm/
EVERYTHING WANTS TO LIVE (Photo credit: Sue Robin) It took my father a very long time to die. He started shortly before my eighteenth birthday and didn’t finish until I was nearly thirty-five. ...
http://www.cobaltreview.com/nonfiction/2023/05/10/114-everything-wants-to-live/
HARRY DEAN STANTON CHANGES THE OIL FOR SID HAIG this is the motorcycle movie that roger corman never madea country on firefull of slow rolling hillstwo good men sitting on a porchcrying to a tune...
http://www.cobaltreview.com/poetry/2023/05/04/113-poems-by-john-dorsey/
NEW IN TOWN I had moved to the kind of town where if during the course of normal conversation, the question of where I was from came up and I told them that I was Iranian, somebody would say, “...
http://www.cobaltreview.com/fiction/2022/12/28/112-fiction-by-siamak-vossoughi/
CUNTSVILLE.ORG That churlish smirk made me look down, not in submission, but in search of a shattering vessel to address her kisser. The perfect hourglass-vase was back home in Oregon, but in Swi...
http://www.cobaltreview.com/nonfiction/2022/11/02/108-nonfiction-by-yvonne-wakefield/
HOURS The bruises change with the hour. You lie in bed listening to the Lloyd Cole the semi-invented Russian did or did not send across the Kremlin spires like a gaunt black bird tall in the gawk...
http://www.cobaltreview.com/poetry/2022/10/20/110-three-poems-by-theodore-worozbyt/
MOUNTAIN ASH Iris was determined. She would stay here until her fingers froze and her lips turned blue. A nine-year-old popsicle. She remembered reading a story about people who died from hypothe...
http://www.cobaltreview.com/fiction/2022/10/13/109-fiction-by-krissi-stocks/