by Claire Scott
Look:
the three headed dog stands guard
snarling and snapping
serpent tail flashing
swollen tongues slobbering
toxic slime Continue reading
Author Archives: aenriquez44e99babd80
Cerberus
Filed under Poetry
Search of Premises
by Anna Egeland
I
After Jeff Wall
Bullet-proof vests hunched over cardboard boxes.
Black latex fingers sifting through papers,
a permanent marker poised, ready to label
Filed under Poetry
Looking Into the Wind
by Eric Stinton
I watch the palm trees bend in the trade winds, as if they were riding in convertibles along the cliffs of the Kalanianaʻole Highway, their fronds like hair blowing back in the breeze. I yearn for their stillness, to let the world move around me, through me. I wish I belonged to the wind the way I want it to belong to me. But it comes and goes, belonging to nothing, while I remain. Continue reading
Filed under Nonfiction
March Forth
by Christopher Stolle
(for Dad [died March 20, 2010], Grandpa Mathews [died March 28, 1996], and Grandpa Stolle [died March 22, 2012])
Grief is a wound
you keep bandaged,
the damage never healing,
never becoming an afterthought,
always a lingering presence,
a fierceness unyielding,
like a tyrant bellowing
for more destruction,
never getting enough. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Watching the News
by James Hartman
I stood at the window, still watching those bare limbs on that birch tree along the slope of bright snow in the dark because I wanted to believe I saw one flutter a little red.
“Oh, Jonathan,” my father called. “It’s there, right? One has finally come?!”
Cardinals were my father’s favorite animal. When they were younger he and his brother used to set bird feeders throughout their backyard, strategically placed according to what they had learned from their Audubon book. My father always talked about them. He always believed they meant the return of something.
Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
Hawaii Pacific Review 