Everywhere You Shouldn’t Be

every time you try
Every poet and painter
every sculptor and composer
before the paper
before the canvas
before the clay
before the notes
Every attempt
an effort to include all
Every word
every bird
salted gluttony
Words hijack and sketches
pull until you are
everywhere you shouldn’t be
Wear a jacket
pull up the hood
Maybe they won’t recognize you
and your sin


Low Pressure

A hieroglyph appeared on the dash
Low tire pressure
A week of airport parking too much
Row 10/Ground level
Somehow a disappointment
Try to do better next time

Infrastructure, and all

Car manufacturers use
Hieroglyphs for tire pressure
Cuneiform for engine problem
Runes for temperature warning
So much to malfunction
Try to do better next time

Infrastructure, and all

1 haiku/thorny

Buffalo Botanical Garden

Misplaced Saguaro
Northern botanic garden
Make believe desert




1 haiku/Crescendo

Summer crescendo
Hibiscus crooning scarlet
Blooming soloist




Rough Air

It does not rain in space.
There is space between the rain
where angels fly
toting dreams
tethered behind their wings.
Aerial advertising using
acrobatic towplanes
with a banner over the beach.

Anticipate turbulence.
Rough air.   Chop.
A little shaking lets you know you are alive.
Then the wings snap off.
Where are the angels now?
Make sure your own mask is secure before helping others.
Be assured oxygen is flowing
with a banner over the beach.


Bring Food

Drinking weak coffee
Someone has to go for food
Dog is arthritic

Singularia tantum:
Japanese nouns do not have
Plural forms          Still
Exception for Kerouac
Pops, and all

Almost autumn here
Someone has to go for food
Fighting with my hair



March on, summer mood
Evasion your specialty
Mobile through revisions of
Observation and denial
Remember we are all to blame
Interring control to a
Zenith trickster, merely a swindler of
Evening shade


An Inch of Muse

Does this look like a bird to you?
Can this look like a bird to you?

An inch of mottled muse
once tumbling and swooping
through currents and thermals
of the Atlantic.

A sandpiper, perhaps?

Plucked from drifting fancy,
it looks like a bird to me.



1 haiku/visceral

Simmering heaven
Vagary in overcast
Visceral raindrops



Red Thread

A thin red thread     zig zaggy     hangs from the hem of your favorite skirt or cuff of your best blazer.  You are careful,  But the whole garment starts to unravel. You bring the skirt to a seamstress or the blazer to a tailor.  They are busy.  So many skirts and blazers to repair.  You must wait.

When you do get to pick up your favorite skirt, from afar it looks perfect.  Just like new.  You try on your best blazer.  Just visiting an old friend.  Maybe the thread color doesn’t quite match.  Maybe you notice a tiny pucker or pull.  That favorite skirt or best blazer is not like new.  It is not as perfect as you thought.

You can’t remember if the skirt was ever that great.  You can’t remember if the sleeves of the blazer were always a tad long.  Maybe you imagined your favorites. Maybe you didn’t.  Maybe the skirt was the right length.  Just below the knees. Maybe the blazer was the perfect fit.  Across the shoulders.  Maybe you are over thinking the whole zig zaggy thread problem.

Wear the skirt.  After all, you are told,  this was an expert seamstress.  Wear the blazer.  After all, you are told, this was the best tailor in the city.

You realize you may never feel exactly the same again about your favorite skirt or best blazer.  But this is what you have to work with.  A thin red thread hanging off a hem.