Category Archives: haiku

industrious

12-0625-olddodge-1sm

industrious

exhaust above a side street, white into night sky
up from the high tide line, from one-story, sprawling waterfront,
unseen, unheard, from up here among houses
down there machinery going on unstopping into Saturday night
escaped steam unrolling, dwarfing houses and firs unstirred by the wind,
the cold and tide shaping it, it lit from below by a thousand unseen sodium vapor lights
coniferous, tangible as a Van Gogh starry night

we do things once (any more), and rarely rest
we prefer to design something digitally, from an office chair
have something read about in a magazine for lunch, and move on

the work of hands is puny, almost humorless, unless it is medicine, done by microscope.
doctors doing surgery listening to oldies radio. architects watching Glee as they model in 3d.
nothing so pedestrian as repetition, as craft. stitches but not braces. rigor and status,
comfortable wages, but nothing crass as a stain, a smudge, a worn cuff or glove

the San Francisco offices of Pinterest are a few doors down from the solar array of an REI
which is not far at all from a Trader Joes and a Peet’s Coffee & Tea. no-one I know
goes around the corner to the Fort Help Methadone center. but not far from there, just .7 miles north on Seventh,
you come to Morphosis’ Federal Building, super green, super industrial looking, all metal veil
and panels that act as thermal sinks in the afternoons, creating air flow without coal

I don’t know. I just feel like we are pretty sophisticated. as a culture. that we’ll – his voice trailing off.
that we’ll figure it out? laughing, her eyes on her phone, checking messages.
him – I wish I didn’t have to work tomorrow.
her – you’re going in? on a Sunday again?
them – drinking coffee, scarves and his hat in a pile.
framed by a chain store window of balanced neutrals, sharply dressed, smooth skin.
pushing off in another minute.

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summer, earlier this week

summer, earlier this week
a lament

1.
after work, flying to a town nearby
down a back road racing end of day

it was just Monday, hurtling through golden burned-out, logged-out fields
headed to a bar in a town we’d never seen

our bodies in the truck warped and wrapped against the hill beside us
chance positionings, as three dimensional as shadow and memory of shadow can be

2.
before work, on the empty lake, the mergansers were loud as power boats
plowing black water into fountains over their backs, eighty of them or more

they must have been flying ahead of the rain
they must have known better their coordinates

3.
the rains came. yesterday. back again after eighty-odd days of heat and sun
like Johnny Cochran, the wet veil of fog over evergreens fit

***

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A trifecta (3) of haiku in reverse chronological order, from a camping trip in eastern Washington

we went camping far away

in land mirage hot (thunder, rain at the end of each day)

daydreamed between drownings in glacial waters

*

No forest without water

No blackbacked woodpecker cleaving chips from a snag

In late july, sixty-three-hundred feet up, so cold, so good

*

We forgot our cellphones

We did, I swear, camping by a lake

It only took one day, one night and being out of range

*

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unfamiliar haiku

unfamiliar haiku

an evening run along the hilltops of the city, familiar houses unfamiliar
the old Amazon building more like a hospital gaping for more night,
feet raw, lungs burning with the cold, shuttered fruit and teriyaki shops

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Snow City Haiku

 

everyone has been out, like geniuses on good meds, smiling, friendly, spending
a hawk flying down 15th drew an awestruck crowd, all with the time to pause
only the Easterners, the ones from away, shovel snow in the hills above Puget Sound

 

 

 

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Haiku No. 9-10-11

wedding haiku

on wedding night, speakers remember what they wish they’d said
every etched moment that will remain uncontained
while friends at the table murmur other perfections, other lanterns, to catch against the glasses

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running this morning in empty dark streets

 

running this morning in empty dark streets
past the neighbor’s cat curled on our front alcove chair
yellow leaf caught by streetlight – one blink – in its twist to wet ground

 

 

nov 21, 2011

 

 

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