Haiku 10/2/18

Haiku 10/2/18

Distant thunder shakes glass–the world appears behind closed blinds. Hold fast.

Late Shower, Haiku

Late Shower, Haiku

Condensate from steam sticks to our pink bathroom walls– we missed the morning.

Haiku, 8 March 2018

Haiku, 8 March 2018

Balled up like paper, the hood of the car burns–rain wets the tar. We wait.

Haiku, 30 March 2018

Haiku, 30 March 2018

Christmas lights, hang on! Spring is twenty days away– hang on to your homes!

Haiku–22 February 2018

Haiku–22 February 2018

above rain puddles, the red of stoplights shimmer– Winter, stay your leave.

Haiku 12/7/17

Haiku 12/7/17

Housemate’s hairs stick, plague shower floors–winter’s rain, my refuge from the filth.

Apoloku, or Haikology: an explanation

Apoloku, or Haikology: an explanation

I forgot to post a new poem yesterday– in other news: trees.

Old House

Old House

Old house, don’t mind me. I’m hiding from September behind brick and stone.

Late Drive, Haiku 8/31/17

Late Drive, Haiku 8/31/17

Your left hand against the car’s cold window–through it, fields of ink, the night.

Haiku, 8-24-17

Haiku, 8-24-17

A napkin blossoms near the wet glass full of ice– main street falls quiet.