Long nights of empty acquaintance. The morning sun streams in on me like fire. If clothes were kerosene, the world would be a brighter place.
by Benjamin Dettmar of Tokyo
in Issue 89 (21 August 2011), Prose, Writers from Japan | Permalink
Everyone tosses their clothes onto the the sand and jumps in at night. But as the moon rises, the tide carries Lou's pants out to sea. He walks the sand, "Where's my pants? Where's my pants?" glistening in the moonlight. He asks to borrow mine, because we are far away and he has work in the morning and, since, I won't go home tonight...and none of this is unreasonable to anyone. by John Wolfgang Roberts of Tokyo
in Issue 64 (27 February 2011), Prose, Writers from Japan | Permalink
by Leila A. Fortier of Okinawa, Japan
in Issue 40 (12 September 2010), Poems, Writers from Japan | Permalink