by Delphine Hirsh
It was hot. So hot. Triple digits by eight AM. The twins and I sat on towels in the car to avoid burning the backs of our thighs. I “held” the steering wheel with my fingertips. The twins had rivulets of sweat lacing their ears when I kissed them goodbye at the schoolyard and drove away. Continue reading
by Stan Galloway
He wasn’t sure what had led him here. He knew only that he had to get away from Cape Town, from the campus, from the Aquarium, from the flat, from everything that reminded him of her: Ingrid. He had driven the old Citroen mechanically, turning on whims, and hours later sat on the rocky beach looking south where he knew Antarctica lay 7,000 kilometers away, in its safe stability of ice. A stability he coveted just now. Continue reading
by Jim Willis
Another local family pick-nick
at the old airport beach in Kona.
The uncle casts a round net
into the surf over a sandy shoal.
Someone taught him the mechanics of the throw–
the division of the folds, the drape, the posture.
He moves with the grace of ancestral gods
and spins the net like a web on the wind. Continue reading
by Lucas Carpenter
Tech experts found it interred in the paint,
a husk of the torso in light vegetation green,
evidence of the flying insect hazard
of plein air painting. There must be
more bug corpses buried in the corpus
of his work. He once complained
about picking flies from fresh creations. Continue reading
by Joseph Murphy
The wind’s labored words smashed pine cone and shell.
White caps ignited, plunging
though gable, eave; eddying
within the hum of bees. Continue reading