by Peter Marcus
A crone standing inside a bamboo kiosk, stirs arroz caldo.
Only faint electric light on the back roads in the Palawan
pre-dawn from the few garages vulcanizing rubber lit
by dim fluorescent tubes. A florid scent unfurls across
the valley and you know yourself as fortunate being
by Mark Kaplon
fluid and floating and nowhere
by Eva Lomski
a fuk a fuk a fuk
She wished she knew the species of tropical bird in the palm tree making that call, because she wanted to pin a medal to its chest. Late afternoon, just as the sun disappeared from the pool, and champagne corks were heard popping all over the resort, a fuk a fuk a fuk it called, tiredly, plaintively, to a potential rival or mate.
by Mitsuko Takayasu
(translated by Toshiya Kamei)
hydrangeas in bloom
are infinitely gentle mirrors on the water surface.
A rainbow after the rain stretches
across the blue sky above me.
by Lucas Smith
Why the parentals let us
I still don’t know, but a Dad’s
promise was a promise, your Mom said
so we motored out, you in bed,
the solid sea forgiving.