haiku and other animals

and though I’ve made so many plans
when I look in the mirror by accident

before a shower a small bird tumbles
down the stair forgetting about wings and so

we come to this moment when momentous
things may be mouthed into the shabby mirror

of the sky and from the neighbor’s apartment
something like a snort or sigh

at the organic cafe unsure of your unwrinkled hands scraggly long hair scraping fine features the constellations of pimples your rough shirt dark stained apron standing tall and to the side you grant a glance and goddess you were all beauty pink cherry trees burst and burst my eyes wide as fried eggs

trick of the recursive planet. Though, with his pet dodo on the run,

(First published in Under the Basho.)

dear friend, we’re it not for the tears held back—
but no, let me start again. After all, it is spring
and the half-clinging leather of newly uncovered

corpses satisfies the flies. But that’s not it either.
Somewhere around here there is a small book from
the past that I’ve carried for years and never read.

though the team was broken up we still hoped that somehow we would triumph over the league of loners though we were weak and needed supplies and spicy food with which to regain our competitive edge and as the day finished drawing obscene doodles in the clouds through the gaps in the tall buildings we occasionally glimpsed the blimps of our enemy scanning for weaknesses to exploit though this all feels like ancient history since the hastily written but iron-clad armistice ushered in the new golden age no one really wanted

I cough and February again

a joke the smirking wind might make to

Enkidu in the land of shadow

but this even older

chair a little dog

sharing some warmth

something other

than dust

falls from

my mouth

my cracked head surrounded by violets here a small blue shell

I think of all the groundhogs I haven’t
known on this windy day in almost May
scurrying away with powerful claws and

the face of my dog bred to chase
their kind staring in amazement a
never-sated hunger in those bones

all that gold plucked out and the oldest trees cut down for no and we sing the malls of our vibrant young and walked for miles with pretzels for the cassette that changes everything