by Orlando Ricardo Menes
Winter waves strew seaweed on tarred sands.
Threadbare clouds vagabond in calico skies.
We wake in that backseat freckled with burns,
Your sun-bleached Nova stranded overnight
By the coconut trees, and kiss with dry lips, Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Allen Long
When I was a boy in Arlington, Virginia, in the Sixties, I owned a box turtle that came when I called him. His name was Grover, and he lived underneath the evergreen trees in our backyard. I stood in the middle of the lawn, holding his meal of raw hamburger and iceberg lettuce and shouted, “Grover.” Within seconds, he sprinted at turtle-speed to where I stood, and he let me crouch down and talk to him while he ate his meal. I was gentle with him, he allowed me to hold him without protest, and he never retreated into his shell on my account. Continue reading
Filed under Nonfiction
by Deborah H. Doolittle
She began and we knew it
was a fairy tale, and that
before the happy ending,
the story would be far from
happy. Sad, in fact, maybe
even horrifying. It’s
not like we hadn’t heard it
before. That tiresome rake Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Matt McGowan
Artie talked like he owned the place, loud and fast and with a discernable accent. Take our first encounter, the bathroom in Neff Hall. I can’t remember what he was talking about, but I know the person he was talking to said only five words: “uh huh” and “is that right?” While urinating, Artie talked some more and then finally had to be alone with his Grand Central Station brain when his friend hustled out of the bathroom without washing his hands.
Which is what I was doing when Artie addressed me for the first time. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Brett M. Bourdon
Step 1. Your father must leave your mother. This is the easiest step. Dad will do all of the work for you! For best results, your father should move in with a new family, with a new wife, and two new sons. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
Hawaii Pacific Review 