by DAIZJHA

He’s laughing at the boy who spreads ketchup on his golden chicken.
His laughter’s thick and lofty, filling the room
with its sound, drawing the family’s attention
to the boy. The children join in the laughter,
for this tradition of eating chicken is foreign
and new. Smells of divine meats and vegetables
fill the home, overpowering this laughter.
Again it’s silent and the clang and cling
of silverware resumes.
He’s stuck his gaze on the boy as he eats his
meal and chuckles.
He’s cold yet warm.
He’s the hoe no the pickaxe in the shed.
His light’s dim and suspended in darkness.
He’s the beginning of the hurricane, the instant from calm to danger.
He’s a black onyx wrapped in silk and grunge.
He’s the canyon you wonder where it ends, where it begins.
He’s midnight where everything is hushed and silent but the people know
there are secrets in the dark.
But somehow this boy of weird taste brings out a genuine laugh,
a joyous smile.
A remarkable night.
It has been a while since he’s laughed this laugh
covered in dust and cobwebs from the months and years
of non-use. The family knows
this and they can only be grateful for
that night laughter has never struck that man
so hard he fell from his chair
holding that tiny belly. That night ended
with such beauty in one man’s laugh.

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by KYLA

As far as I know, we were eating one night. The scent of battered chicken basking in the greased up skillet. The sound of the stove’s roaring fire. But what really got him was an epiphany within a dream. In the dark he followed the strangest sound. He felt for the doorknob and pulled it open. He felt as if he was in a small living room. A record was playing somewhere in the distance; Elvis Presley was singing on the stage with the crowd cheering. Now he could see him.

A voice had startled him. It was of a man with a mature voice and tone.

“You know, he had it good before he met drugs,” the voice said. “Have a seat, William.”

There were glowing red eyes surrounded by a golden body. He had a rainbow-colored Egyptian eye on his forehead.

“Listen to him closely,” he said.

“Aloha oi, aloha oi. Aikio aloha noho ika lepo. One fond embrace. Hello then goodbye. Until we meet again,” sang Elvis.

“He sang that song to his family, because somehow he knew that he would not last forever,” he continued. “Tell me. How do you think Elvis felt when he lost his family because of his delinquent circumstances? I’ll give you a hint. Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.”

In a strong light my brother woke up.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“Well, this guy visited me in my dream. He told me how important life was and that I should spend it being thankful for my family,” he said.

I was touched, because I knew that guy. I always will, but do you know him?

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by PAULA

The skies opened, christening
New growth
Wrapping around my shoulders
Brought by incessant movement within
Labyrinths beneath the city.
The paths of righteousness
Led us by moonlight into caverns.
Steal the spotlight,
Dear child, sweet child.
Take the lead, not serendipitously.
You were meant to shine.
Twirling onto the stage. Watered-down
Fossils, memories rushing from time to time.
Ambition outweighs the pride
Burdening my mind with impatience.
Waiting burlesque dancers
Hid in the shadows.
To every thing there is a season, and a time
To every purpose under Heaven.
Hang in there.

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by JENNY

I.
Blue sky with white clouds,
a handsome face, a gold chain.

II.
5 gum hairline,
perfect line up
faded out.

III.
That parented advisory
show all the
emotion.

IV.
Staring into the future
leaving the past behind.

V.
Drake that name Drake
nothing was the same

VI.
Those two chains around
his neck make him look
like thug.

VII.
His music makes me feel
hyped and cool

VIII.
Holding the digital CD makes me feel
that I have his voice.

IX.
He makes us feel like
we are not the only ones
with heartbreaks

X.
He cold because
he is from
Canada

XI.
Soccerball goes around
the world

XII.
The write clouds keep
moving while he rapping

XIII.
He was going to
make it rain with his
cold Canadian clouds

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by GARRELL

1. Being single, seeing double, making triple
2. I wasn’t afraid of the talent they got, I was afraid that I’ll be the last black boy to fly out of Compton
3. Mom, Mom look, I touched the net.

When I was fishing, I wonder what the fishes say to their parents. Maybe something like, “Mom, Mom, look I touched the net.” Then their parents getting mad and scared. In this business you wonder the weirdest things. After a harsh talking-to by its parents, the fish would say, “I’m afraid that I would be the last fly fish to fly out of Compton. I want to see places and explore.” The same way I feel. That’s what I’m trying to do in this business. I’m about being single, seeing double, and making triple.

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