Shooting Frisbees

by Steph Spector

It doesn’t matter whether you’re on a hundred yards of turf stamped with the seal of our alma mater, or standing on a bluff overlooking a creek, cinnamon whiskey on the brain. It’s the curl-bend-whip of your wrist that makes them fly so fast and so willingly. It’s something like a turntable needle when it kisses a record, crackles, and sings. Continue reading

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Haunted

by Steve Coughlin

He was the bedroom, the Black Sabbath poster thumbtacked to the wall. He was the unmade twin bed and dirty sheets my grieving mother refused to wash. He hovered outside the second-story window. My dead brother watching as I turned out his cracked lamp. Continue reading

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Mother’s Day

by Mia Sara

My gangling pale
bedroom-eyed
boy child,
telling me lies
as I drive downhill.
“They need me,” he says.
Self-starved
distressed damsels,
the bloated buddy,
dumped again, Continue reading

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Mistranslated Valentines

by Matt Mason

It’s time to just admit
I don’t speak the language.
I’ve traveled through relationships
like a man walking the Champs Elysees

wearing peach shorts and a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt
who, in each boutique, shouts:
“One.  I.  Want.  One.  Of these.  Comprende?”
while seeming to pantomime the drama of fencepost digging. Continue reading

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At Keoua Canoe Club, Honaunau Bay

by Edythe Haendel Schwartz

Pahoehoe lava shelf. Blue skies.
Wind on our tongues, we speak of her,
brace ourselves to meet each jolt of memory–
how her fingers could pull octopi

from holes. Wind on our tongues, we speak
of heart, of ribs the surgeons pulled apart
the way her fingers would pull octopi
from holes. Surgeons tried to fix the fault Continue reading

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