by Patrick Meeds
I’ve got a thing for rivers that wind
but that’s just a lazy way to say
I love you. Just don’t believe
for one instant that it’s not true. Continue reading
There’s No Mention of Robots in the Bible
Filed under Poetry
Impersonations
by Nancy Beadie
If Billy Collins were a woman, or
if I were Billy Collins, we might write
about the ironing I am doing now–
how a good iron has a life of its own
as it noses up the folds of a seam,
fingers a cuff or the hem of a skirt, Continue reading
Aftermath
by Mercedes Lawry
What can I say out here in the field of scorched grass?
How long will it take for the water to disappear?
Rivers thin to trickles, to dry rocks and bruised stones.
The many stars in a smoky haze, uncounted. Continue reading
Young Drunks
by Alison Amato
Mom always told me to be home before two a.m.–
All the drunks are on the road after that.
And there we were, a pair of young drunks, minutes shy
of three a.m., using our loud whispers at your brother’s kitchen island.
Filed under Poetry
Royalty
by Franz Neumann
My parents naming me Royalty wasn’t enough. My praised voice and songwriting, and all the gigs—not enough. I needed to gild myself with an origin story to break through. I needed Touch Ferguson, music executive, to discover me.
I did my homework and had myself hired by Like Heaven, the service that cleaned Touch Ferguson’s house on the beach. I always brought my A game: hair, make-up, and as much allure as my Marian-blue maid outfit would allow.
“You got a date with a mop, Your Majesty? You trying to impress the bathroom mirrors, Princess?”
To clear the audition stage, I told my teasing co-workers that I’d clean the house solo. They didn’t need convincing to nap in the Like Heaven van. I sang as I cleaned, making certain to come off as genuine and not thirsty as I lingered near the security cameras. Touch who?
Filed under Fiction
Hawaii Pacific Review 