Hanau ka Uku-koʻakʻ’a Hanau kana, he ʻAkoʻakoʻa, puka Born the coral polyp Born of him a coral colony emerged From the Kumulipo The Kumulipo is a Hawaiian creation chant composed by Hawaiian priests in the eighteenth century that includes a genealogy connecting Hawaiians to a royal ancestor’s cosmic beginnings. The polyp is the first animal…

Ho las’ night me and Aunty went Wo Fat and order honeymoon shrimp. What’s dat? Dey take one broccoli, you like broccoli eh? And den dey make one slit in da shrimp and poke da stem part thru da shrimp. Honeymoon shrimp. Was mo bettah den my own honeymoon. Hee, hee. What’s da honeymoon part?…

When I think of painting you, I think of dust and roses tossed into a confetti starred night. We should all remain incomplete for someone to apply the next brush stroke or another stanza in a poem.

Each burning moment passing me I longer long for long-lost things Though red-hot fire her ashen cold The north star’s nearness clasped Within her eye and ice A minute interlude Shot between her lives And then the dream train roars I see The come, the here, the go Still searching for that familiar face My…

The homeless man walks barefoot around Kaka’ako with a guitar on his back. He heads down Halekauwila in the art district, past murals by graffiti artists. He spots a narwal sitting by a campfire and stops to warm his hands. He sees a row of samurai, swords drawn, and he bows to avoid their blades….

Boy, wassamattah? I no can skip. Fo what you gotta skip. Maybe hop or jump. But skip no need. Fo da May Day Maypole Dance. Try show me. I no can. See. Hmm. You know why, you starting off on da wrong foot. You stay left hand, eh? Jes start on da uddah side. Nevah…

Hawaii was not yet a state when ten cents bought: A spit and shine to infantry double buckle combat boots by scrawny Filipino plantation boys; Two Hershey chocolate bars shared six ways; A trade school education paid for with the minted alloys of silver and copper amassed over the years, swelling a single sock that…

Chapter One Call me crazy . . . for even thinking about it. God or no-God? Why wouldn’t it make a difference? I’m sure His hand was seriously in play that time Evers and I scored our famous ten-dollar lid at the olden golden International Marketplace, that masterpiece of 60’s Waikiki funk, the whole karmic…

The vendors are swarming us. “I see your future,” she says, grabbing at my arm. “You like know? One hundred yuan.” I glance at her. She has coke-bottle thick glasses. Can she see anything? I pull my arm away. “Bu yao!” “Fifty yuan.” I feel my shirt pocket to make sure my wallet’s still there….

A Bird in Hand On a cloudless summer day she flew into my life and rested her head in my hand with the weight of a butterfly. She spoke of love in another life and one to come. Her beauty was carved from ice composed in the kitchen danced like a gypsy to flames on…