Poetry

Haiku 35

Image by Jmabel.
Image by Jmabel.

I figured it out!
This bus seems creepy because
it hasn’t spoken

The dead man once knocked
a robber to the ground, in
Philadelphia

The Frye poster saint
imprisoned behind the shadows
of my broken shade

9:30: Still stuck
within inescapable
self-referential

Throw the coffee spoon!
We each measure out life with
some receptacle

Comfort in prison,
for me, involves a great deal
of peanut butter

Someone’s throwing up
at the front of the 16
start of long weekend

He’s taller than I
recall, stirring memories
of old savagery

“Lone Wolf” says his hands
right/left tattoos; but he holds
her hand with the “Wolf”

Kathleen is the girl
on his bicep; a knife scar
tears into her cheek

They let me come back
for my forgotten milkshake,
Dick’s on 45th

I’ll hide, for awhile
one moment frozen in time
until my wet sneeze

Cigar-shaped dog shit
shines halfway between the bum
and Sunday service

The crow dies slowly
foaming beak, ragged feathers
beside clipped ivy

Those lakeside wailing
“It’s still legally summer!”
moved to the wrong town