Spring 2010, Volume 8

Poetry by Kyle Moreno


Lately, I am capable only of small things.

Is it enough
to feel the heart swimming?

Jill is fine. Our first
garden is thick with spinach
and white radish. Strangely,
it is summer

but also winter and fall.

In response to your asking:
I fill the hours,
then lick them shut.

Today, not a single word, but the birds
quietly nodding
as if someone had suggested
moving on.

What was that perfect thing
Some one who once believed in god said?

Please, don’t misunderstand:
We still suffer, but we are


BIO: Kyle Moreno is a surf journalist living in Los Angeles. His work has previously appeared in Pearl, The Chiron Review, Crab Creek Review, Verdad, and Water Magazine.