Hawai‘i Literature & Art
— Since 1978 —
Out on the open road again, Miss Chevy rides smoothly enough at the moderate speed I’m driving her, and I’m well aware that moderation could win the day, assuming the day can be won. I’m also aware that I seem to want to give a name to my vehicle, an indulgence I’ve always resisted on…
“Here you go, sweetheart, and plenty more where that came from.” Mardi curtsies as she hands me the chilled longneck. “And would the ‘here’ you reference mean here in Bryan as a place to seek ultimate solace, comfort, and wisdom or as a marker for where you stand in your life’s journey?” “Both. And more.”…
Mardi’s mom’s name is Rose. A long-standing family tradition has her dad selecting one yellow bloom from the bush he cultivates near the swimming pool and presenting it to her each morning. “A rose for my Rose,” he says. I don’t know what she replies, never having witnessed the ritual. Maybe it doesn’t happen every…
Lizard on moss rock Surveys his realm at the fore Aft, hungry mynah
Sauce done and judged beyond further improvement (That’s actually really good), she turned her attention to the spaghetti. Reaching for the carton, she notes her left index finger is bare. What happened to that Band-Aid? On both of the previous evenings, knife speed exceeded skill level, leaving perpendicular cuts across the center of that nail,…
“I don’t want to drink all your dad’s beer,” I tell Mardi. “Don’t worry about it. He stocked up for you.” “Appreciate it.” “Thought you would. My suggestion. Wanted to get you talking.” “Bet you’re sorry now.” “Au contraire. I’m on the edge of my seat. You’ve got the prayer to say before the first…
ON HE RODE — Chapter Thirty-Nine The country school I attended in grades five through eight was a steep-roofed chalet built of river rock, heavy Douglas fir timbers, and cedar shake roofing taken from the ground on which it was built by the WPA in 1938. A gorgeous edifice immaculately maintained by angular post-retirement old-timers…
They are five young shower trees Aligned on Auahi Street, fearlessly Blossoming outside Salt in late June’s Heat, full in their belief that they always Will be so lustrous and as proud As the youth of Honolulu parading Under their shade, fearlessly believing This will never happen again.
“The whole damn thing about God, if He exists,” I say to Mardi, rudely pointing my Lone Star longneck, “is that, if He exists, we need to take that into consideration in the way we live our lives. Consider, for example, how we conduct business and government and parenting and relationships with each other. What…
Looking at my naked self in a full-length mirror reveals a diverse palette of possibilities, some anticipated, some not. It seems that by choosing sudden baldness over the more gradual male pattern alternative, I have opened up other coiffure possibilities. In fact, invited them. Nay, demanded them. Judging by the preliminary stubble, I will have…