Issue 27

Winter 2021

The 27th issue of Coal Hill Review features work that explores the self and connection to one’s family, as well as the nature of decay. This issue’s writers delve into these ideas with curiosity and poignancy. Join them as they unravel what it means to know oneself, even the darkest parts.

This winter, we find ourselves the ones falling from the bird’s nest, learning new lessons, wandering the natural world, and mourning the way people fade until they’re gone. We hope you enjoy moving through this season’s work as much as we did.

Featured Content from Issue 27

Issue 27 | Winter 2021

War Story

By | Fiction

Baldy spots two breasts floating in the water. Baldy, Country, Sarge, R.J., and I all line up along the water’s edge. “Look at this,” Aftershock yells from downriver. A torso propped up by a knotted rubber tree.  Nervous laughter. Baldy throws up.  Country points to another body, neck to belly, that surfaces near the first.
C Pope - Author Photo

Why I Didn’t Go to Your Funeral

By | Book Review

Nobody made a sound. Someone I loved was gone and it was hard to pretend, it was foolish to be preoccupied by the business of expression.

Issue 27 | Winter 2021

Come On Up to the House

By | Poetry

Were they tall terns? Or meant to be herons? Lined along the sill of your big bay window, the small wooden birds your hard hands carved as Christmas gifts for a dozen children,

Issue 27 | Winter 2021

Memory Theater

By | Poetry

Can’t find my shoes. Forget them. Torn sheet? Forget that. The soft quilt drifts, my cast-off reading glasses tilt sideways— slippery sheet, blind glasses, orphan shoes: a stage for drunken love though I’m sober.