CHRIS GORDON haiku ’96 part two

February 26, 2016 § Leave a comment


the bus grows somewhat quiet I ring the bell


greeting a stranger in the smell of baked chicken


lonely for ideas I have never had


ottery tickets


while you were sleeping the bees began dying


I blow smoke into the opening of the phone bill


geese nibble the dark stuff we have our separate rooms




CHRIS GORDON haiku ’96 part one

February 23, 2016 § Leave a comment


one dandelion
seed clings to the stalk
no diagnosis

a leaking faucet
butterflies mating in
all this smog

rain drops catch
the lamps and
strike my face

visible only in
the shaft of light
a circling fly

storm clouds
a circling crow
drifts eastward

the buildings
disappear a coot

the radio
barely audible
late at night

the snails have
paid more attention
than I have

my finger follows
the wet curves
of her ear

the colorful garbage
hints of autumn

a lamp left on
in an empty room
sparrows at dusk

a moth has flown
out of my mouth
or so it seems

drawing blood
she says I look like
my name








February 11, 2016 § 1 Comment

“The amusing alter-egos of famous haiku poets”



February 9, 2016 § Leave a comment


between two bricks

something moves

a blade of grass





February 4, 2016 § Leave a comment

don’t have my tongue in your cheek I have it in mine




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