Tara en Teguc

by N.T. Arévalo



The Toncontin International Airport, the actual landing strip, is one of the shortest (most dangerous) on the planet. The pilot descends quickly into a canyon, ducking a mountain, and when the plane hits the tarmac, it must do so at an exacting speed so it brakes before the cliff. That’s right: the cliff. There’s even a traffic light to pause motorists as the plane’s wheels dip a fistful of feet from the highway. Continue reading

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by Arah Ko

King Kamehameha stands, shrouded in gold,

staring out into the open

ocean, gazing east, right hand held out:

a greeting, or perhaps a sign for white Continue reading

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Distance: A Case Study of You and I

by Caitlin Friel

Scientifically speaking, there is always distance between two objects. Like when you’re touching someone, you’re not actually touching them at all. The electrons that exist on the outer limits of the atoms that comprise everything repel one another. So every sensation we feel on our skin, in our mouths, and everywhere else on our bodies is really just repulsion. Continue reading


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From a Sow’s Ear

by Juliet S. Kono

Every bone of roast chicken we ate
at my grandparents’ we stripped
of meat and sucked, before adding them
to the bowl for Mother to take.
She washed the clacking bones
and boiled them for hours, Continue reading


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Ethel Kewalo, 1932

by Loren Moreno

What little I knew about my real father
was used to shame me.

Not-real Daddy would say, One of these
is not like the others.
 My sisters and I, shoulder-to-shoulder—

I’m this brown, dark thing against their milky Portuguese.
Their long black hair falling in waves.  Continue reading

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