Car alarm,
foghorn mournful…
sunrise
☯️
That red wine!
let slip
such awful gossip
☯️
Beat down, beat down…
coffee chills
in the cup
☯️
tanka:
Naked,
past midnight,
the dark–
me
and Van Morrison
☯️
April,
the soap falls apart…
sticky porcelain
☯️
tanka:
The crane groans…
first two notes
of
Also Sprach
Zarathustra
☯️
tanka:
I beheld
a hole
in the habit of things…
but
slept it off
☯️
Dreaming,
with the sun on my eyes…
late winter grace
☯️
Fugitive sun!
I’ll chase it
into June
☯️
Winter dawn…
seagull swoops east
from the moon
☯️
Still dark…
toothpaste spit
creaks down the sink
☯️
Ice cream man!
What can he dream…
after moonrise
☯️
Those gulls,
unlike sirens…
silent at dusk
☯️
Eight days of grey–
one bold lamp
against the stars
☯️
Gulls’ cries,
stirring…
cauldron in the cold
☯️
Long night…
refreshing scent
of armpit funk
☯️
From the street,
truck metal whines…
suspenseful flute
☯️
Dusk…
moonlight attends
the spiderweb
☯️
The child–
leaping heart–
I was there once
☯️
Spoon, clinks
in the bowl…
one last Sunday
☯️
