by Adam Matson
The first time you hang out with friends you haven’t seen in a while, you realize how weird they are. That’s how it was with Jerry and Reesie (rhymes with the peanut butter cup) Tolliver. I hadn’t seen them in almost ten years. This long hiatus in the friendship was nobody’s fault. Life drives people apart. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Hayley Notter
I found a sandwich bag of white powder in Will’s nightstand. Straddling him, sundress on the floor, I wasn’t reaching into his drawer for a condom (we would break up before I had the chance to offer up my virginity). I don’t remember what I was reaching for. Continue reading
Filed under Nonfiction
by Sophia Velasquez Martinez
Overripe mangoes
melt in wicker baskets
strays sip from sprinkler head pools Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Elliott Gish
The customer has hair on his knuckles. That is the first thing I notice when I look up and see him standing in front of the service desk, his hands resting gently on its edge. The hair is black and thick, growing in wild tufts like those on the tails of wild pigs.
“Excuse me, miss. If I might have a moment of your time.” Continue reading
Filed under Uncategorized
by Teatuahere Teiti-Gierlach
when I speak of colonization
I’m not referring to ships with white sails
or sandpaper men and their infection Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 