by Claire Scott
I ask him if he heard the banshees last night
baying at the moon, a sure sign of impending disaster
my husband is slicing radishes with a spoon
he looks up but says nothing Continue reading
Banshees, Jesus, Hyenas, Sharks But No Wine
Filed under Poetry
Diner™
by Amber Baird
Sunshine yellow mustard caked all over my hands, America’s Favorite Brand or what the fuck ever, I grab the next bottle. Squirt out ketchup, America’s Favorite non-Newtonian fluid, in a spiral pattern on the wood-style laminate floor. Twist my hips to the soft rock anthem still blaring out of the diner’s sound system.
They announced it this morning, the death of capitalism.
You
by Michael Manerowski
I am thinking of you
as cars and trucks pass
by my window
I am thinking
of you
as cars and trucks pass
by my window
I am thinking
of you
Filed under Poetry
Language Trouble
by Richard Schiffman
Your silence resonates in my belly
like ice crackling on a winter lake,
a trigger’s click, the report of a rifle
in the woods, a fog horn moaning
in the pea soup distance.
Filed under Poetry
Invocation with Red Sails
by Anne McCrary Sullivan
Hōkūle’a, teach me how to be on the dark sea
without a chart, clouds obscuring stars.
Teach me how to hold back panic, read the waves.
Teach me to trust the ancestors, who knew more
than I yet know how to know. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 