by Kalani Padilla
The cabbages will survive at 24 degrees fahrenheit
whether they tolerate or desire the frost
is their secret.
by Kalani Padilla
The cabbages will survive at 24 degrees fahrenheit
whether they tolerate or desire the frost
is their secret.
Filed under Poetry
by Isaac Rankin
Before the nurse can draw back the bay curtain, you cup your hand and yell at a whisper, Your beard makes you look like Jesus! It’s not you but the valium talking, winding it’s way through your veins, preparing your body for a microscopic speck soon to sail for a distant shore.
Filed under Nonfiction
by Christian Hanz Lozada
History is present in every rock
Kamehameha left on the side of the road
even though it’s also just a rock.
The Queen’s Guards are decked out in red
like a queen’s guard is decked out in red
and the luau dancers wear grass skirts. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry