Good mechanical aptitude and fair
Clerical skills.
Normal intelligence;
Neurological examination essentially
Negative. Admitted guilt, showed little
Real insight and had no real
Goals in life. Therefore, not
Likely to profit appreciably
By confinement.
Hope is a pudding-wonderful thing
in the icebox beside the grilled chicken,
a summer’s day by another name
that gyres and struts its hour
across the wabe.
Hope. It won’t disappoint, since every atom
belonging to each mermaid in trousers rolled,
as good belongs to you and me
and all the petals in a metro station
at the butt-end of a universe less traveled.
difference
like leaves in the forest
half a league on
(This mash-up of a haibun presented with thanks and apologies to Emily Dickinson, William Carlos Williams, William Shakespeare, Lewis Carroll, St. Paul, Walt Whitman, T.S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, Douglas Adams, Robert Frost, and Lords Byron and Tennyson)
*Observations and Thoughts on Sunday Afternoon:
*A Quadra-ku Haiku
Somehow I have managed to
End up falling in
Love with a girl who,
In this case, may
Never comprehend just how she
Absolutely saved my life
Love
Infinite
Love
Indeed
The way the trees sway back and forth
Like they’re waving hello to each other
Being able to steal a glance at the sun
While it hides behind the clouds
How the clouds look so comfortable
Just gliding through the sky
Taking they’re sweet time
The little ripples in the water when the wind blows
While it may not always be chaotic
It is never calm, it is alive
How the wind makes my loose hairs tickle my face
Reminding me to stay in the moment
The warmth of the sun on my back
While I lay here and feel, indulge
Dialects
are forgotten
Despite all the years
I spent pretending
my heart still points
towards home
and it’s my first awareness
of my latest offering
of the glorious red
the stealthy journeyman
sought me out
from across the apartment
plumpening up
on my essence of life
to sustain its own
no matter where i sit
there’s eventual itch
like how the fuck did you find me here
then a laugh
’cause i’m creeping toward worship
of your sheer persistance
male loneliness spreads
like random blood smears
on the mattress
who needs to bring a girl by
when i have you
always here at home with me
proboscis in my flesh
i can maybe accept a tariffed irritation
overlook shadows you bypass order in
all for an entity
that will always chase after me
because it actually wants to keep me around
There are clothes hanging on a clothes line
Someone’s dirty laundry now made clean
garments are worn thin
being scrubbed and wrung and squeezed
the life dripping back into the wash bin
Only to be poured out again
new water needed for the rinse
I walk among them
stainless and stiff
The washtub waits for me
a backwards baptism
I kneel before it
staring at my reflection
not fighting the hand that pushes against the back of my head
I wonder how clean I’ll get
