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







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