by Ace Boggess
Inmate Buck Berk ran the buffer for an hour before it bumped a chair and the snake leapt out at him. Well, it didn’t so much leap as wobble, its insignificant head slicing the air in a down-up motion more like a woodpecker’s. It bounced a dozen times, then stilled. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Doreen Beyer
He wears the eyes of his ancestors,
small dots
the sharp points of bird bone,
black indelible eyes
enormous with the weight of knowledge. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Chris Bullard
Hell is the new black.
Everyone is going there,
so plan a visit in winter.
The chill on your face
will almost make you feel alive. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 