June 12, 2006 am
An egg from your mouth.
Swallow wings trilled in my chest
and a snake crawled out.
-for TI
June 12, 2006 pm
Wait in the closet.
Reread your maps. Trace hard lines
on sheet twisted legs.
Showing posts with label from the archives. Show all posts
Showing posts with label from the archives. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
Jose and the Big O
We have no haiku from yesterday because there was no commute yesterday.
There was, instead, a tow by the golden-toothed Jose, who reassured me that Dusty and I would be just fine, and took me to "this guy he knows" who charged me $5 cash (you are reading that right--$5) to fix my wheel up enough to get me home, and later on, to W Macarthur's Big O Tires, and, it's official: I love those guys. Everyone I dealt with after yesterday morning's freeway fiasco was so thoroughly pleasant--I can't even shed a tear for my shredded tire. I'm going to spend more time hanging out with mechanics.
I did unearth more haiku from the 2006 archives, buried beneath a small stack of maps in the front seat:
June 29, 2006
Siren's Flash, shock of
white hair, licks salt from fish scales,
legs, teeth, neck whispers.
-for Flash
There was, instead, a tow by the golden-toothed Jose, who reassured me that Dusty and I would be just fine, and took me to "this guy he knows" who charged me $5 cash (you are reading that right--$5) to fix my wheel up enough to get me home, and later on, to W Macarthur's Big O Tires, and, it's official: I love those guys. Everyone I dealt with after yesterday morning's freeway fiasco was so thoroughly pleasant--I can't even shed a tear for my shredded tire. I'm going to spend more time hanging out with mechanics.
I did unearth more haiku from the 2006 archives, buried beneath a small stack of maps in the front seat:
June 29, 2006
Siren's Flash, shock of
white hair, licks salt from fish scales,
legs, teeth, neck whispers.
-for Flash
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Monday, March 3, 2008
rats rule
June 8, 2006
Rearview East Bay Rat,
slice lanes like a swift switchblade.
Take me with you, man.
Rearview East Bay Rat,
slice lanes like a swift switchblade.
Take me with you, man.
Monday, February 25, 2008
it was the Day of the Beast, but nothing malevolent happened
Dang, I was very prolific that June. I think there was a lot of construction, and my commute was taking even longer than it does now.
June 6, 2006
I hide the maps and
apples. My pale horse hums in
the garage, waking.
June 6, 2002
Star heart, moon aloft.
You crawled back inside my chest.
The end of sadness.
-for TI
June 6, 2006
I hide the maps and
apples. My pale horse hums in
the garage, waking.
June 6, 2002
Star heart, moon aloft.
You crawled back inside my chest.
The end of sadness.
-for TI
Friday, February 22, 2008
my bowl of chili's in the house
The rain was very distracting on my commute yesterday--there was just so much to look at in the sky: the clouds, the breaks in the clouds, the walls of fog. Am I getting simple?
Feb. 21 am
Witchcrafted in half
I'm voodooed in the driver's
seat. Who guards the doll?
Feb. 21 pm
Sweet unsteamed kettle
shrieks ascoted manners and
puppets to heaven.
But the primary source of my distraction is the arrival of the ever-elusive gata. In honor of this all-too-rare event, one from the archives:
June 7, 2006
Pie-makers, weep not:
Bake trophies of peaches; feed
your judges honey.
-for the gata
Feb. 21 am
Witchcrafted in half
I'm voodooed in the driver's
seat. Who guards the doll?
Feb. 21 pm
Sweet unsteamed kettle
shrieks ascoted manners and
puppets to heaven.
But the primary source of my distraction is the arrival of the ever-elusive gata. In honor of this all-too-rare event, one from the archives:
June 7, 2006
Pie-makers, weep not:
Bake trophies of peaches; feed
your judges honey.
-for the gata
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
order
My archives are a hot mess. I need to get these organized.
May 31, 2006
Talk about your mom,
your God, your keen remedies.
Close my eyes, spine-tied.
-for MC
June 14, 2006
Uncork the tonics.
Spider swooning on her web.
Binds stilled arms in thread.
-for MC
May 31, 2006
Talk about your mom,
your God, your keen remedies.
Close my eyes, spine-tied.
-for MC
June 14, 2006
Uncork the tonics.
Spider swooning on her web.
Binds stilled arms in thread.
-for MC
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
tagged
Dubin tells me I've been "tagged." I'm not sure what this means; as far I can tell, it's some kind of blog pyramid scheme. While I'm figuring out what the hell I'm supposed to do to avoid 10,000 years of bad luck because I haven't forward a message about angels and kittens to 10 friends in 10 minutes, here is one from the archives.
June 6, 2006
Vines boomed up. Tiger
drowned roarless in the sea. Teeth
clacked. Vulture sang back.
June 6, 2006
Vines boomed up. Tiger
drowned roarless in the sea. Teeth
clacked. Vulture sang back.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Feb. 7 am
Christina laughs at
my car's horn. "But it works!" You
always know it's me.
Feb. 7 pm
Seraphim blink. My
eyes lift off like kites. The cows
wheelbarrow me home.
And because Dusty gets a rest on Friday, and because my beautiful godson told me on the phone yesterday, "I love you Aunt Lisa," one from the archives:
May 31, 2006
Reading palms, ouijas,
your mother and I, age ten,
sought you in ether.
-for Luca
Christina laughs at
my car's horn. "But it works!" You
always know it's me.
Feb. 7 pm
Seraphim blink. My
eyes lift off like kites. The cows
wheelbarrow me home.
And because Dusty gets a rest on Friday, and because my beautiful godson told me on the phone yesterday, "I love you Aunt Lisa," one from the archives:
May 31, 2006
Reading palms, ouijas,
your mother and I, age ten,
sought you in ether.
-for Luca
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
plus ça change...
Feb. 5 am
From my tragic Green
Party ballot Nader leers.
So we meet again.
Feb. 5 pm
Tennessee eyelids
droop humidly in lilac--
cricketed doorways.
-for JK
And one more from the archives, since today I did things like sleep and generate compassionate thoughts toward my fellow man rather than drive to work and back:
June 7, 2006
Hide the camera, leave
the house at dawn. We'll bury
knives in the garden.
-for ST
From my tragic Green
Party ballot Nader leers.
So we meet again.
Feb. 5 pm
Tennessee eyelids
droop humidly in lilac--
cricketed doorways.
-for JK
And one more from the archives, since today I did things like sleep and generate compassionate thoughts toward my fellow man rather than drive to work and back:
June 7, 2006
Hide the camera, leave
the house at dawn. We'll bury
knives in the garden.
-for ST
Sunday, February 3, 2008
from the archives: life is very short and strange
Because of its mostly half-assed nature, you might get the impression that the haiku commute project is primarily a product of ennui, and you'd be right. But this hasn't always been the case.
It was right around the one year anniversary of the sudden death of G that I began the project. The skies along the 101 corridor through Marin and Sonoma that time of year were clear and vast. Her death was, again, very much on my mind, during the day and also in my dreams. Many of my first generation haiku were dedicated to someone. These are for her in memory.
June 1, 2006
Me with shattered wings
and you--his first Icarus--
a clipped jay, lifted.
June 14, 2006
Maple seed spins from
the sky. Sister, I fed him
salt the day you died.
It was right around the one year anniversary of the sudden death of G that I began the project. The skies along the 101 corridor through Marin and Sonoma that time of year were clear and vast. Her death was, again, very much on my mind, during the day and also in my dreams. Many of my first generation haiku were dedicated to someone. These are for her in memory.
June 1, 2006
Me with shattered wings
and you--his first Icarus--
a clipped jay, lifted.
June 14, 2006
Maple seed spins from
the sky. Sister, I fed him
salt the day you died.
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