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the open window
a piece of unfastened sky
pressed leaf in a book



it looks so easy
to slay another’s demons
nay, impossible

unreal, they seem real
our better angels, reborn
formerly demons

I’m busy peeling
Zen potatoes and counting
your three pounds of flax


arctic telegram
cold feet under warm blankets
raindrop pings window

from tributaries
oceans receiving rivers
snow drift in sunlight

afternoon thermals
heavier than air on wing
the sky believing

sanderlings darting
exhausted wave collapses
on sleepless shoreline

the water’s language
a library of cloud forms
notes on sea napkins

words in light of other words
this buoyed upon that

(Everyone writes Haiku about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.)

2017 #MeToo Haiku Revue


    each conquest a brick
    now tied to his flabby neck
    long walk on short pier


    as young as they were
    he felt they were old enough
    and we do mean felt


    the king of standup
    single handedly ruined
    all self pleasuring


    he read Lolita
    as a self-help dating guide
    Alabama rules

Film Haiku No. 3

Rounders (1998)
Matt Damon, Edward Norton, Gretchen Mol, #spoilers


a dodgy friendship
ensnared by his loyalties
missteps and hard knocks


an interest in law
interferes with his calling
this hold’em genius


Teddy’s cookie tells
that ace could not have helped him
he flops a nut straight

Haiku Night School

counting syllables
familiar has three or four
here I argue three


the third line departs
from the imagery evoked
but not completely


is there Zen in this
master strikes me with his cane
my scribbles burning


a pointed dunce cap
the fool will wear it in shame
the wise just wear it


the class is dismissed
what all did you learn today
some eraser smears