Okay, so when you go up, Face the curtain on the left You know when you walk in? So the holes face the audience  So the sound project To the back of the room. Good.  Then you look at Miss ____, nod ‘okay,’  And then you start.    What if I have to sneeze?  …

New Year I am not Japanese most of the year. I throw my head back and laugh loud from my belly. I wear kalakoa clothes. But come the New Year, I like to eat my family dishes of memory and meaning. For fertility and creativity, I crunch the salty fish eggs on konbu.  I eat…

All I Want The general contractor tells me to get a farmer’s sink if I can afford it.  I imagine the farmer’s wife deep in the sink, elbows in the air, scouring crusty pans.  It sure is not the farmer doing this.  Little did she know this farmhouse sink is premium.  Its over-the-counter lip costs…

Found   Ma wen looz my bruddah at Sears Nah—mo like she wen foget wea he stay, Afta all, she get tree udda kidz fo corral eenside da cah.   I rememba tellin my Ma he no stay, She sed Shit an we turn da cah aroun fo get em. Was eazee fo fine heem…

Fading upside-down at the bottom-back of the last yellow page of the steno pad I grab on my way to the couch to write my version of the 75 words the Buckaroo has mandated this time — not more, not less, but do title words count? — I find the name Steve Jones, followed by…

I borrowed my wife’s lipstick wrote them in the corner of the mirror that was last January the words kind of smudged my 2020 resolutions forgot about them in February I stare at them they wouldn’t have worked anyway with the kind of year we had but still too ashamed to put up new ones…

Beyond the spectral depths of Pele’s throat lies a sensory deprived world where summer winters and days dim long into the night, where winds sculpt ice into waves and absolute silence screams, cultivating a lingering insanity– irrelevance in a place where all lines of longitude meet and the earth doesn’t move–a place of eternal white…

Sixth grade, our Americanization was through the Standard School Broadcast sent to each classroom via a wired speaker. Listening to the speaker on the wall meant we didn’t have to do any work for half an hour. Most times Alfred fell asleep and snored quietly. Mrs. Chong took the broadcast as an opportunity to rest…

Okay.  Here’s to a healthier and one hell of a happier 2021.  Let’s write.  Good therapy. This month the word count is exactly 75 words.  Not 74, not 76, or 75 and a half.  Exactly 75 words. Prompts: 1.  From “Mauna Loa,” by D. Keaweehu The fog often settles on the slopes of Mauna Loa,…