Asemic Writing from Otoliths, Issue 57

Rubber-Ball Days: A Chapbook of Lockdown Tanka

 

Asemic Writing from Otoliths, Issue 56

Asemic writing from The New Post-Literate, March 31, 2020

adrift at sea

the god we pray to

waves 

weird laburnum May 2019

a rainbow

in the oil slick

blackened trout 

Presence 65

her dying

wish to travel

winter breeze 

Presence 65

no filter

for the noise

next door

the bug screen

gathers dust 

hedgerow 128

a bomb. like he had. no idea. 

Bones 18

S.M.A.R.T.

My career goals have always been small.  All I wanted was a job where: 1. I didn't have to work outside; and  2. There was no requirement to stitch my name onto my shirt. By all accounts, I have been wildly, ridiculously successful.

happy hour
I jump over
the limbo bar 


Contemporary Haibun Online, July 2017

falling asleep

on the late evening

train

my uncle rides 

into his shadow 

Presence 65

too lazy

to clean the house

for guests

I polish

my social smile 

Bamboo Hut Winter 2020

a lifetime

of protest votes

day moon

Noon 15

an outburst 

from the bleachers...

summer moon! 

Modern Haiku 50.3

mountain path ...

I slip a little

into the past 

The Heron’s Nest, Sept 2019

Water Bugs

lap after lap

at the YMCA, an old man

stroking time

face down 

in the shallow end

the drowning 

of these dreams

water bugs!

the stream alive

with kids!*

moss-slicked rocks

she grips

her mother’s hand

night fishing 

reeling 

in weed

catch and release

a hook pricks 

my conscience 

camp out …

the lake plays host

to starlight 

back to school 

the outdoor pool

full of leaves

*after Issa 

Under the Bashō 2019

Contrails

I wake, groggy, my mind awash in last night’s dreams.  While there’s light in the sky, the sun has yet to rise.  A mist clouds the morning. As I listen for a moment to the silence, I realize I am totally alone.

sparrow ribs
wind fills
a plastic bag

But I’m not alone.  My wife is there, asleep in bed.  I shake her unresponsive shoulder.  Drifting from our room, I call my kids.  They don’t return the greeting. I decide to go down for a cup of coffee but find myself floating above the stairs.

mountain lake ...
a billion years
of starlight

I start to rise.  My thought clouds dissipate. I wonder if I’m falling back to sleep.

crows caw
the opacity
of rain

staining
the old wood cross
my faith

a squid waits
in the tide pool
new moon



Contemporary Haibun Online, October 2018

Retained

There are as many

billboards for lawyers

as shows.

Advertised

as a city of sin,

good representation

is integral

to the Las Vegas

experience.

Even so, it is

disappointing to learn

that what happens

in Vegas

stays

in Vegas

except for

your criminal record.

Otoliths 55

a crow flies by the window I reflect on

the shadows I can’t will out of my thoughts

Otata 46

Lineage

With our cells

replacing themselves

every seven years,

at forty-nine

I have completed

the seventh generation

of the molecular

arrangement me.

Remembering

that the Iroquois 

Confederacy 

made decisions

with seven future 

generations in mind,

I wonder

what conclusions 

from my cellular past 

contributed to 

this me generation,

but also when 

I should gather 

my cells in conference,

start planning 

in preparation for

my fourteenth 

generation

turning ninety-eight.

Otoliths 54