Poetry

Haiku 33

Photo Credit: spoony mushroom via Compfight cc
Photo Credit: spoony mushroom via Compfight cc

The library’s doors
laid flat for their new fall paint
yellow tape guards maw

Read the Tao Te Ching
and mop up cigarette butts
in time, convergence

Ah, but how much time…
suppose I haven’t the strength
to while away Now

Posthumous toilets
wrenched sweatily curbside
on crooked revue

Dark at 1:20
(pm, that is): Straight into
summer-ending storm

Mecca Cafe fries
left as breakfast for the youth
sleeping in my street

She’s manic-cycling
(again?), shopping for us all
dog food, before dawn

I can’t die today
I have this steel drum music
to lull my head, to

Escalator from
tunnel to Third Avenue
darker up than down

The iPhone charges
all that was spilled at dinner
spackles down a drain

This house is on fire
and I can only ask, how much
did you have saved in there?

Leaning on a gate
two peddlers in dusty shoes
tongue-bathing Sno-cones

Her inner thighs flex
her bottom plumps to the floor
legs closed, then open

“You can’t bring that beer
on the bus,” so the hunched drunk
flings it to shatter

Jetty, confetti
bride and groom release two doves
breaking east, moonward

The door stands open
until I have to shut it
against yon winter