account_circle by Kirby Wright
Kirby Wright was born and raised in Honolulu, Hawaii. He is a graduate of Punahou School in Honolulu and the University of California at San Diego. He received his MFA in Creative Writing from San Francisco State University. Wright has been nominated for two Pushcart Prizes and is a past recipient of the Jodi Stutz Memorial Prize in Poetry, the Ann Fields Poetry Prize, the Academy of American Poets Award, the Robert Browning Award for Dramatic Monologue, and Arts Council Silicon Valley Fellowships in Poetry and The Novel. BEFORE THE CITY, his first poetry collection, took First Place at the 2003 San Diego Book Awards. Wright is also the author of the companion novels PUNAHOU BLUES and MOLOKA’I NUI AHINA, both set in Hawaii. He was a Visiting Fellow at the 2009 International Writers Conference in Hong Kong, where he represented the Pacific Rim region of Hawaii. He was also a Visiting Writer at the 2010 Martha’s Vineyard Residency in Edgartown, Mass., and the 2011 Artist in Residence at Milkwood International, Czech Republic. His futuristic novel THE END, MY FRIEND was published in 2013. He published SQUARE DANCING AT THE ASYLUM, a collection of flash fiction, in 2014.



Issue No. 295 ~ December, 2021

A man flops on a park bench. He reflects on losses and near misses, disappointments stored like copper coins in a mayo jar. His pennies wait years to get cashed. He peels off a patch of forearm skin murdered by the Indian summer. A school …



The Tree of Knowledge

Issue No. 278 ~ July, 2020

I’m haunted by diabetes. Metformin twice daily. Finger pricks determine glucose levels after testing strips absorb the sticky drops. This disease is god’s punishment for gobbling fudge at Martha’s Vineyard. Sugared butter on the waterfront shriveled my kidneys and tainted my blood. I cringe whenever …

Oregon Snow

Issue No. 274 ~ March, 2020

A truck with Oregon plates arrives in San Diego at dusk. When the driver slides open the cargo door, his Christmas trees are coated with lumps of snow and sheets of ice. There’s so much white he imagines an artificial forest smothered in flocking spray. …

At Allas Outdoor Bar

Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

I devour dialogues of sunset dwellers, the romantics sprawled on canvas loungers overlooking South Harbor. A turquoise pool ripples between the Baltic and us. X-girls chorus, “Yo, yo,” sipping wine and Estonian beer. White lights strung through the railing glow strong after my third drink. …

The Ochre Hotel of Stockholm

Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

  Spray us yellow so that we stand out from the red hotels claiming Gamla Stan. We were the second boarding house to hang a vacancy sign, and that first one went kaput before the Great War. A single bomb struck during WWII, shattering windows …

Year of the Sheep

Issue No. 219 ~ August, 2015

She gives me the look, the same one she throws whenever we brush our teeth together late at night at the double sinks. It’s somewhere between tolerance and abject disgust. Disgust because I not only eat meat but wolf it down rare. “Face eater,” she …

The Actress

Issue No. 216 ~ May, 2015

ANGEL JUST HIT 42. It feels like a crash. She’s been acting thirty years and fears the bloom is off the rose.


Issue No. 190 ~ March, 2013

It’s been happening daily and I pray he doesn’t do this in front of my girlfriend or parents.


Issue No. 189 ~ February, 2013

I apply mint jelly—that gives the lamb a snap of freshness.