by Sheila Nickerson
Not every tortoise who waddles up your driveway
brings a message. But sometimes you wonder.
Here is Tortellini, from Terrace Place—
a block away and down the hill—
coming toward your door. It took her four days,
her people say, and she has done this before.
Quickly, we discuss the patterns on her back,
the meaning of her visit, our dreams and fears.
Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Ace Boggess
they’re making a movie about my childhood basement
Hollywood producers overcome by all the monsters there
fire-eyed slobbering winged-like-flies arising from everywhere
as with heroes fighting in their blanket capes
Filed under Poetry
Topolobampo, Mexico
Filed under Poetry
by Takamura Kôtarô
Translated from Japanese by John Peters
Singing dribbles
from a timid and simple cicada.
Red spots on a large oak’s leaves,
in the azure depths of a jewel sky,
before bright faces behind bamboo-blinds,
in front of an ice shop, crimson spots
dazzle and luminesce—
Onions choking in a suburban Tôkyô produce market,
Gnats clinging to a horse’s sore stomach,
The sun, like a thin plank,
slaps my cheek. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 