by Donna Pucciani
Your favorite flower,
though I never knew why,
and you never could explain.
Their bright faces reflect the sun,
aflame in yellows and reds. They turn
from shadows, disrespect the dark.
They choose petaled light, fanning out
from a core of ochre, find the pink Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Katrina Dahl Vogl
Cleo has let the Hiss get too loud again. It’s been two days now since she’s had any money, since she got high, and the Hiss is hissing. Saying, it’s time. So an hour ago she caved and called Louie King, and now he’s sprawled out on her bed with his boots still on, whining that Miro said he’d be home soon, right? Cleo doesn’t answer him. He knows just as well as she does that when a dope dealer says fifteen minutes they mean an hour, and when they say ‘soon’ they mean, this’ll take however long it takes. Continue reading
by Michael Hettich
is standing in a rowboat, way out. The still air
is scribbled with gnats, which swarm inside your shirt
as he stands and calls out to you. But he’s too far out to hear Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Jon Doughboy
In the foyer there’s a majolica peacock the size of a punch bowl shimmering inertly and full, stuffed to its decorative brim with nail clippings and you say, as you open its back to show me, “They’re my father’s, he keeps them, I don’t know why, don’t ask me why, he’s disgusting, isn’t he disgusting?” and I don’t have time to respond because this is the first time I’m meeting your parents and your mom is in my face suddenly, Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by James Ragan
Beneath the drizzling golden hues of sunlight,
a palm is swaying tall, muscular in its song,
smooth as a kumu hula sidestep, grazing the sand,
or a chanter’s muse waving a song
along the fingers to storied heights, each hand
rolling in air to dance one beat into a pair. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 