by John Grey
Nobody knows me here.
No friends.
I’m totally alone.
Then you call. Continue reading
The Loneliest Man in the World
Filed under Poetry
Still Life
by Franz Jørgen Neumann
The drives to Clayfield used to take only a few hours, back when Beth and Mira visited their husbands once a month. Now, nearly at the end of Dennis and Dylan’s eight-year sentences, neither woman lives in the same town anymore, and they must rise early in order to manage the trip to Clayfield in a day.
Beth picks up her daughter-in-law before dawn, the sky an ocher-to-indigo gradient that reminds Beth of the interior of a decorative bowl she keeps on her dining table. The ceramic piece holds peeked-at bills, house keys, coins and buttons, a matchbook, and whatever else can be emptied from a pocket. Here, that same gradient is uninterrupted, at least in the eastern sky.
Filed under Fiction
They Were Lying Naked
by Dmitry Blizniuk
(translated by Sergey Gerasimov from Russian)
They were lying naked in the dark,
parts of their bodies jumbled;
they were lying blissful, dissolved in each other. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
25 Entries Found for ‘Kumu’
by Jonathon Medeiros
A kumu is a teacher.
She is a tree, the base, the trunk, the root,
The source, the beginning of a braid.
She is a plant in the mud.
Kūmū is a fish. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Paradise Zero
by Eric Paul Shaffer
Paradise, friends, is a joke played by poets
on patrons, the restless, and the gullible.
Paradise leaves nothing to be desired,
everything to the imagination. Paradise is
a hole in the head, in the heart, in the planet Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 