by Dayna Patterson
I like the way you bent over to shake your breasts
into your bra, the way you showed
Mom how to do it, the way she
showed me. Continue reading
by Dayna Patterson
I like the way you bent over to shake your breasts
into your bra, the way you showed
Mom how to do it, the way she
showed me. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Kateri Kosek
I wanted a hurricane
and I got one. Wanted to learn about mass,
about what flies up, and what gets left
behind. The plovers hunched on the beach, bedding
down in seaweed. Heavy wooden chairs on the decks of sea-
side cottages. It’s not what you think. Hundreds of terns Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Victoria Crawford
Hot dogs roasted over a charcoal fire
pickles and chips, fine dinner
after a hot day’s snorkeling
Agat’s coral reef,
Orote Peninsula, Guam,
concrete picnic table
between two thick-walled bunkers
urine smelly despite open
machine gun turrets facing the sea
our Yorkie gnawing his dog.
My father always liked dogs. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Susanne Braham
I’ll remember, forever, one cold, November night.
Suddenly, you were a lifeless lump, slumped across our bed.
As your face turned shades of purple, I panicked,
unable to breathe life back into a mouth I knew so well.
Thirty-three years of kisses. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Charles Pen Khek Chear
there were
the short jokes
the mahalos
and when my eyes close,
the smile. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry