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Gettysburg Review
Gettysburg College | 300 N. Washington Street | Gettysburg, Pennsylvania


by Ted Sanders

Here is the halibut: he lives on the seafloor, swimming on his side, shimmying into the bottom’s silt. He affects flatness. He is meant to work this way. His top side, as he swims, is in truth merely his right side, where both of his close-set eyes now bulge.

“Luisito Grau de Armas”

by Colleen Kinder

When the priest directed his entire Sunday congregation to turn and welcome the foreign woman sitting in the last pew, Luisito was already staring at her from his wheelchair. He had propped himself up on the chair’s right arm—something only a person of his size could do without toppling over—and was using the boost to peer over the heads of the congregation in Bejucal, Cuba, for a clear view of the blonde person.


by Jeff Hardin

Lazing and drunk, they’re called,
the wasps
           dipping to find an angle in to sip again the honeysuckle
(and again and again),
                                 the thick-drenched, everywhere scent of it,
all day bumping against the sugary universe of all this is before and after.


by Jim Daniels

Last week my mother had eyebrows tattooed on.
She asks how they look. She’s legally blind—
I could tell her anything.

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