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
by Elizabeth Fergason
My husband Harry and I are on vacation. It’s been a difficult year so we’re giving ourselves a little time off from the pressures of home. Our two daughters stayed behind with a sitter. The girls are three and five and they need a break as much as anyone. A break from our recent tensions, our troubles. Of course, our girls aren’t happy we’ve left them. Children never are. Ada threw herself up into my arms and clung to me the way kudzu clings to a tree. Anna stood at my feet, both hands clamped tightly on my leg.
Filed under Fiction
by Arya F. Jenkins
Eight years old I stood in
My red bathing suit bottoms on black soil
Enshrouded in a chapel of the
Largest greenest leaves I’d ever seen
Next to the pink ranch house in Key Biscayne
Filed under Poetry
by Kat Hausler
Chase has never seen Stella look so beautiful. Of course, she doesn’t usually wear much makeup at work, let alone anything that shows off her figure like that strapless gown. But more than that, today’s the end of an era. The day they both know they messed up.
Filed under Fiction
by Mel Ruth
Decrease it down to measurable parts: how
many DVD cases fit into a trash bag? (multiply by four
then add a bloodied scrape against soft shins from the rotten
dresser). If I have three half-used
sketchbooks and ten broken pencils, how many ripped Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 