Announcing Issue 6
Hello Dear Chum, Need a good salve for the head or heart? Issue 6 of Skipjack Review is (a)live and available for free PDF download at skipjackreview.com/archives, so swim on over and download…
Revelations, Renovations, and Cold Hard Cash
Hello, Dear Chum, As you may have noticed, we’ve had a submissions makeover. Eyes up here, please. Yes, we’ve been changing some things. For one thing, we’re now accepting submissions through Submittable. For…
A Conversation with Mary Collins
Jim: The river has always been my happy place. Any river. Anywhere. However, one specific region always comes to mind: the Dora, MO area, where there are as many watering holes as names…
“Portages” by Rebecca Callahan
They portaged into the Minnesota wilderness for six hours that day. They carried the heavy canoe through the narrow, wooded trails, sometimes a mile or more, until they could put it into the…
“River” by Peter Cashorali
The final piece is our dying. Not hurried to or gotten through, Not flinched from though if so That’s part of it too. As if the end of the river Wasn’t a falls…
“The Creek in Winter” by Mary Ellen Shaughan
She places one foot down, then the other, gleaming blades meet glistening ice. After a few tentative strides, she stretches her legs, then pushes, soon finding her rhythm, propelling her forward, away from…
A Texas Gulf Coast Baptism
is a momentous affair. Veneration drives steaming bodies into revelrous, unsurvivable throngs. Humidity compounds, heat makes us suffer, and wind-whipped children play house on the sand. I’ve walked all the way here with…
A CONVERSATION WITH MARCUS CAFAGÑA
Poet extraordinaire and all-around good guy, Marcus Cafagña, has seen his poetry published in hundreds of magazines across the country, including AGNI, Witness, Poetry Magazine, Ploughshares, American Poetry Review, and on and on…
“Chipmunk Summer” by Ed Ahern
Chipmunks have reentered my stone walls and flitter-twitch across the open grass guessing that a thing as grossly large as me cannot be a healthy coexistence. They dart into the spaces between rocks,…
Announcing the Winner of the 2024 Dead Herring Prize
Ho ho ho-ly mackerel, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas! Gridlock as far as the eye can see. The smell of burning money in the air. There’s a negativity scene at…
Announcing Our Nominations for The Pushcart Prize
Hello, Dear Chum, Thanks for stopping by! It’s good to see you. It’s been a busy year—but the year isn’t over yet! We’re roughly a month away from the release of Issue 4,…
That Which
Dear Writer, Today I am reminded why we write and that the how of it is irrelevant when it comes to doing the deed. Sure, there are a great many qualities effective works…
“Lofgeornost” by Eric Fisher Stone
Beowulf’s last word means most eager for glory,though the gulf coast toad seeks anonymityand crickets juicy as mangos. Wartedlike some goblin dumpling, your soft stone sits in moss-slick ditches, your eyelidshelming black mirrors…
“The Sky is Falling” by Morganne Howell
2006 “What are you worried about?” my mother asks me across the patio table. She looks at my father for reassurance, who studies his stein. Charred fragments of the forest float down from…
Best of the Net Nominations
It’s that time of year, friends! No, I don’t mean fall. I don’t mean Halloween. Certainly not Christmas! Best of the Net nominations! Unfortunately, Issue 1.3 came out a little later than expected…
“November Garden” by Ronald Geigle
The poet in the November gardenseeks words that rhyme with spring. Lumps of marigold,browns of spent peony underfoot. On the poet’s tongue, rebirth.On the garden’s veil, a hint of tomorrow’s frost. The garden folds its arms…
“Sinking Feeling” by Alice Lowe
In an Ursula LeGuin story written in the seventies and set in an unspecified future time, Manhattan is under eleven feet of water at low tide, and oyster beds occupy San Francisco’s Ghirardelli…
“Woodstove” by Nicole Chvatal Poem
The methodology for his laundrystill makes me laugh and cringe and laugh againthat I am no longer faced with the moundsof heavy denim, wool river driverswith seed-sized burn holes and necklines fraying,air-drying from…
Jon Zawislak: An Interview with the assistant professor of Apiculture and Urban Entomology
FEATURED IN SKIPJACK REVIEW, ISSUE #2 For this special, Bugs-themed issue of Skipjack Review, we set out on a quest to have a heart to heart with an Ozarks entomology expert. But where…
“Late September” by Paulette Guerin
The last cicada is sputtering out.Probably a male calling for a mateas autumn moves in. The buzz starts and stopsand pushes forward like an old crank car.This year, no tidal wave of cicada…
“Why We Pray” by Will Falk
We should have known – whenpollution turned the sun purpleand even the honest horizonshazed over – that we were trappedbetween the two halves ofthe last summer solstice.“Half day, half night,part Earth, part sky”was…
“Passing Whimsy” by Angela Townsend
Mullet has passed. Mullet was the color of a circus peanut and too shy to enjoy being enjoyed. Mullet’s heart misfired. Mullet’s death made eighteen people cry. Mullet’s name was a housewarming gift…
#amwriting #reachingintothevoid
I’m going to let you in on a little secret: Most of the time, good writing is a total accident. Don’t get me wrong, if you show up and put in the work,…
Ope Here!
Ope here, Holy mackerel! Make it stop! By all means, don’t stop sending submissions, but, please, no more bugs! We’ve got bugs coming out of our ears. Big bugs. Little bugs. Burrowing bugs.…
Call for Submissions: Ozarks Rivers and Lakes Essays
The only thing richer than the history and folklore of the Ozarks is the soil beneath its people’s feet. The region’s lush splendor is with special thanks to its many rivers and lakes,…
“Generation Facilitator” by Cristine Emerson
Sterile, she rides the airheavy with ingredientsfor new generationsof cotton and serviceberry,stamens and pistilsunable to touchwithout caresses ofa third party,and drunk, finds warmpillows inside purple petals. CJ Emerson is an writer and artist…
“The Japanese Beetle War” by Karen W. Burton
Japanese beetles hummed about my head, their iridescent thoraxes reflecting the summer sun. I closed my eyes and decided they were humming in the key of C sharp. I stood in their chorus…
Announcing the Winner of The Dead Herring Prize
In the land of the Lotus Eaters, it’s easy to lose sight of what’s important to us because we spend so much of our lives in support of responsibilities which, let’s be honest,…
“Generational wealth” – Sarah B. Cahalan
Someone’s doing archaeology in the sand againdigging up old saltworks, a meeting house,taverns with motels on top.With little brushes, they reveal the bonesof stranded pilot whales:The stench must have hung for months,the things-that-feast-on-whales…
the water and the gills
A journal of arts, environment, and spiritual currents
the water and the gills 