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Category Archives: Reprint
is palpable tastes like licking the road faces dry like lips like the cracked cheeks of a charcoaled body air can do that you know: BURN that is why we must tongue the rain when it bursts and glut our soft skin so … Continue reading
Along the edge of the ice, where the water is not still and will not freeze despite the winter, stands a goose and her mate. All around them are small, familiar mounds. The night snow has settled upon these mounds … Continue reading
“If dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts.”—Adam Duritz Skin flakes fell. Blood baked on the hot asphalt. The salty, metallic stench of sweat wafted in the summer air as the zombie shambled, chasing the frazzled sheriff … Continue reading
unless you consider the wail of a glacier as it splits down the middle under the shimmer of Aurora Borealis, the crack of lightning striking the crook of a branch so thick it creaks and crackles on its slow fall … Continue reading
Poetry is a stop sign— either you get it or you don’t. Surprisingly few do. After all, how many drivers ever really come to a complete stop? This is a reprint of work originally published in Lāhaina Noon. Eric Paul … Continue reading
Night draws me from my house. I gaze at the sky. A star falls. My mother, who believed God fills the sky, once said falling stars are the only gifts the heavens give. I remember my mother, gone now, only … Continue reading