by August Straumanis
This morning I was woken up by a marching band. The parade was in town—horns crashed through the treetops, majorettes passed out smiles like electrocutions to the crowd. A biker gang rode by with a caged tiger in tow, a small mirror lodged in its jaw. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Sean Eaton
My short-fused mother became close with a coworker
and took us to visit her ranch in Charlotte. My sisters
and I strapped into our minivan, trundling along past
farm after farm. On arrival, she told us to make friends
with the woman’s daughters, so we did. (My kindly heart
was always hungry for love.) My wisecracking young Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Tiffany Hsieh
The train draws to a halt in the tunnel. Next stop: who gives? Estimated time of arrival: how long does it take to clean up after a jumper? Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I think about the cleaner who scrubs the tracks. Do they do that? Scrub the tracks. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
Hawaii Pacific Review 