by Tobi Cogswell
Dressed in his “church pants”, he cuts through a field
like a rabbit on skates. Late as he often is, he’ll get “the eye”
from some chuntering old usher—get nothing but grief
from postman to pub to his mother and wife,
who left ahead of him–early–gently walking the road,
the sway of her contentment like a velvet metronome. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Paula Goldman
The stone stands its ground,
Worn away turning
in the whirls of surf,
chuffed to the beach, sun-
drenched, rain-washed,
a map of injuries. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Roy Bentley
To the northwest, the continual racket and candelabra of a refinery,
its stoop-shouldered rigging an exhausted colossus. To the southeast,
a trailer park named for a tributary of the Licking River, Ramp Creek,
a fouled rivulet reduced to toxic run-off no one in his or her right mind
would drink. Each day, the eyes of those who live here open onto this.
Each night, these constellations spin imperceptibly over the real work Continue reading
by Robert Karaszi
In this geometry of a dream
I’m back where the sun,
a monstrous orb
pours savage light
through rockweed.
Starlings like gray halos
circle then arrow
into mangroves. Continue reading
by Susana H. Case
Black and white photographs line the
corridors: here, a roadster, with a glamorous
woman checking her face in the rear view;
another inhales a candelabra of eight cigarettes.
Who are these people?
Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 