by Kelley Jhung
Spring, 1995
The smells of garlic and sesame oil fill the living room as my sister, dad, and I scrape our chopsticks over Styrofoam containers. We’re eating Korean take-out as we watch The University of Kentucky play Tulane in the second round of March Madness. Continue reading
Filed under Nonfiction
by Joseph Stanton
for Ali`i Chang
This bird, thatched to be unseen in grass,
scampers in Kula’s purpling rows of lavender,
searching for bugs and bits of seed.
It could be nothing more than an odd sparrow
sporting a flash of white at tail
for all we know or care, as we picnic in cool air,
steeped in last light and flowers. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Donna Pucciani
we are without pages,
pens dropping from our hands
stars rise on our poverty
the moon sheds light on our infirmities Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
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
Hawaii Pacific Review 