Hawai‘i Literature & Art
— Since 1978 —
Harvest Red dirt and pineapple fields stain my memories. Alongside rows of pineapple, I sat on dusty red roads and ate from my kau-kau tin with the old lady gang. Years later, I carried you in my belly and yearned for fresh pineapple, dripping with juice and a touch of salt.
Almost The Same He thought about when he dug graves to earn money. They stacked sixty bodies in the shed that winter the ground froze hard. Flashforward to a half-century later. Now, bodies are stacked in refrigerated trucks parked behind morgues. They wait for loved ones to mourn them during this pandemic time.
Indelible Allegra once told me You carry sadness in your eyes, She was sure there were stories To tell in the way women can That meander to love and men. I buried that sadness deep, But sadness seeks sadness And she drew it up As one might sip some sweet drink.
The Rat is gone, the Ox feels lucky. It is said that wearing metal and the lucky colors, yellow and green, will bring prosperity. I wear my gold and jade Chinese ring whenever I go out. I used to call it my Green Lantern ring. Now it’s my Ox ring.
My aunty ask if we like go cruising. We like go. All us kids. She make the music real loud. Her boyfriend jus wen hook up sounds. Cigarettes and bass fill the passing air. We drive the winding road, down to the beach. Everybody looking. She shoot one quick shaka.
I’m four years old, surrounded by my father’s family for the first time. Their sun-leathered skin confined by starched cotton clothes, brown eyes jumping all over me, land hard on my mother, an ivory-skinned beauty, eyes flashing like sunrise, like her nation’s flag– bearing the bitter weight of her birth.
One summer I towed a Citroen 2CV From Hamburg to Copenhagen Using two silk neckties as rope Connecting it To the Dutch bicycle I rode. It was faster And more reliable Than the French car Into which I’d crammed All the shit A novice traveller to Europe Just might need.
Nursing my beer at the Shack in Mililani, watching Quiet screens with lost men chasing balls As lost as the men sipping beer in the half-light Unsuccessfully trying to bury their hangovers Longing eyes glued on waitresses derrieres While upstanding citizens leave church across the street Just another Sunday morning
Okay, Happy Valentine’s Day in advance. I love you all. This month how about 50 words max. Sounds good to me. Here are some prompts you can use or not; it’s to you. Joy Gold actually used the kitchen sink in one of her January pieces. You can use the kitchen sink as well. All…