by Justin Lacour
The first cold night in south Texas
I split an omelet and hash browns
with a girl so high she thought
Waffle House was shaped like a bowl Continue reading
Cup of Hindsight
by Deborah H. Doolittle
I am reading my roots
like grandma’s tea leaves,
having sipped that bitter
brew, having tipped the cup
for likenesses to ogham
or runes or any glyphs Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
A Little Too Much Jesus
by John Picard
“Please order a drink everyone,” Kate said. “I mean it, Chuck. I know how you like your vodka martinis.”
“Are you sure?” Laura said.
“Positive. We talked a lot about social drinking at the Center. A big part of recovery is abstaining around other drinkers. This’ll be good practice.”
“I’ll feel awfully funny if I do,” Laura said.
“I’ll feel awfully funny if you don’t. I’m serious. The house chardonnay is excellent here.”
“Let me just say, Katie,” Chuck said, “that you’re one of the strongest, bravest women I know.”
I could feel some pressure on my right temple. I couldn’t be around Chuck, a car salesman with the personality to match, without a getting a headache.
“Anyway,” Laura said, “you look fantastic. You really do.”
“I lost sixteen pounds. That’s what cutting a thousand liquid calories out of your daily diet will do.” Continue reading
Migration
by Ann Cefola
–For Katherine Tompkins McCollom (1923-2019)
Each late September day, a monarch crosses my path, looping on air—
a trampoline, a highway, a portal; voyager from Vermont, milkweed-fat and nectar-full,
heading always—I turn to face it too—south, from plaited cornfields
relieved of spiked gold—knee-high by the Fourth of July— Continue reading
FR 232
by R.A. Pavoldi
Alan used to haul lobster from this bay
pulling traps from the thick breathing air,
dove under in winter for urchins spiny
and cold on the dark green shelves,
a slow crab breathing through a hose
while his life held its breath waiting above. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 