CHRIS GORDON early haiku 1994-1996
March 27, 2014 § Leave a comment
my cold feet
step on her bra
still warm
fallen elm leaves
the plastic bag
remains
unlocking the door
the key she gave
back to me
I buy
another book about
non-attachment
Modern Haiku 25.2
a beautiful mouth
the postal clerk says
she likes my writing
Modern Haiku 25.3
fast-food containers
the weeds green from
the warm rain
Modern Haiku 26.1
the hot asphalt roof small white petals blow in circles
her hand covers my ear the sound blood makes
Modern Haiku 26.2
tea our silence and the hot still morning garden
light warm rain
mosquitos drift up
through wisteria and dusk
the full moon
coats the dark lake
boarding an empty bus
Frogpond 18.2
the orange glint of rush hour way up there a hawk circling
a train enters the distance empty sheets smooth and cool
imagining her with someone else behind the blinds the moon
weeks later her sweet voice it’s just a machine
the crosswalk whistles skimming the pavement an empty bag
Frogpond 18.3
in the dust splotches of rain half the billboard flaps in the wind
a gliding egret the clouds converge on themselves
Frogpond 19.3
HAIKU IN ENGLISH: THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS ant ant ant ant ant
January 30, 2014 § 1 Comment
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the cloud-edge on the horizon deer head in the freezer
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Jon Cone
Issue Six
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where the lines end and the absence begins an architecture or so
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Chris Gordon
Issue Five
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clear winter sky over the radio the first bombs
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Dorothy Howard
Issue Four
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whittling
till there’s nothing left
of the light
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Jim Kacian
Issue Five
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your hair drawn back
the sharp taste of radishes
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M. Kettner
Issue Five
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meadow speaking the language she dreams in
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Scott Metz
Issue Nine
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CHRIS GORDON a book of matches
January 29, 2014 § Leave a comment
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snow from Xmas still painted on the porno shop
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thaw before New Year’s silverfish in the bathtub
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three lentils in the beach bathroom drain
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my son says I’m not playing I’m having fun
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at the doctor we divide by two subtract one
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the button I sat on falls to the bus floor
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drawn to the lollipop ants sizzle in the sun
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panties tossed on the melon rinds wet in spots
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over time the little steps take us far away
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my brother I don’t really know it’s his birthday
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hoofprints on the beach seaweed entangled with bones
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morning the bathroom empty except for my razor
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you write a list I let your tea steep too long
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with a book of matches you know how many are left
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lit by the window sawhorses covered with snow
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the corner where the blackbird attacks a rag on fire
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deep in the river a tiny moth leaves my head
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CHRIS GORDON a ring around the moon
January 19, 2014 § Leave a comment
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after the movie
we find the ants
in the bag of candy
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footfalls on the wooden
floor I can hear what
I did to your knee
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the foundation separates
from the house ants
carry off a beetle
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silence on the phone
a spider darts out
from the matchbook
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the crow in
the road refuses to move
a thunderstorm at dusk
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at the bookstore
we pretend we don’t
know each other
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yellow dawn waking
up to the taste of
vomit on your lips
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a bit of your breast
as you lean over for
a piece of cold pizza
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where someone walked
the grass has lost its blue
sheen of dew
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at dusk the heat
inside the house pushes
the door open a little
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your panties soaking
in the sink today
the crocus bloomed
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the bank teller tells
me there’s a ring
around the moon
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she’s taking a long
shower I add up
the receipts
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empty nut shells blown
by a warm wind a rag
that smells of gasoline
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waves of heat rise
from a tin roof a balloon
in the distance
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a few grains of sugar
at the edge of the fire
slowly smoking
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a woman in white
furry boots I drop a handful
of screws
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at the end of January
we see the sun your results
off the chart
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after our fight
we both wind up at
the pineapples
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CHRIS GORDON the yellow payphone
January 5, 2014 § 1 Comment
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it only takes
incoming calls
the yellow payphone
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when you buy
a newspaper
the yellow payphone
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the yellow payphone
the only one
in the neighborhood
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next to
the ice machine
the yellow payphone
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if she’s angry
call her on
the yellow payphone
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additional charges
may apply
the yellow payphone
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the store’s closed
it’s still lit up
the yellow payphone
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calls may be
monitored on
the yellow payphone
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it smells
like cologne
the yellow payphone
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a call from
the sheriff forwards to
the yellow payphone
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all I remember
when I get back
the yellow payphone
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CHRIS GORDON Northwest Review Vol. 42 #1 (2004)
July 31, 2013 § Leave a comment
TEN HAIKU
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by streetlight ants crawl out of the slot in the meter
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in the blue of his eye some wires and behind them clouds
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covered in graffiti the train car passes quickly through town
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the faint shadows on the paper made by creases in the paper
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all the color has settled to the bottom of the bowl
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cold spring rain snail in its beak the crow blinks
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a bead bounces on the linoleum she said it wouldn’t hurt
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crushed by a tire the yellow pencil fans out from its metal end
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briefly green from the copier two faces speaking to each other
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rain dripping from a light bulb a car backfires
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ant ant ant ant ant four
July 15, 2013 § Leave a comment
“In many ways the culmination of my original vision for the journal.”
ai li, Ronald Baatz, Peter Bakowski, Michael Basinski, Guy R. Beining, Ed Bennett, John M. Bennett, Ernest J. Berry, Diane Borsenik, Jason Sanford Brown, Tom Clausen, MTC Cronin, Bill DiMichele, A. di Michele, Dennis H. Dutton, John Elsberg, Crag Hill, Gary Hotham, Dorothy Howard, Jim Kacian, W. B. Keckler, M. Kettner, Jim Leftwitch, Shawn Lindsay, Paul Long, paul m., Robert Major, Errol Miller, Sheila E. Murphy, Dan Nielsen, Jim Normington, Simon Perchik, Anthony J. Pupello, George Ralph, William Ramsey, Dennis Saleh, Hiroaki Sato, Sam Savage, Caroline Steinhoff Smith, John Stevenson, Michael Dylan Welch, Arizona Zipper.
ant ant ant ant ant five
July 7, 2013 § Leave a comment
Now available for the first time here the complete facsimile of the Spring 2002 issue of ant ant ant ant ant. Hiroaki Sato translates selections from Tomizawa Kakio’s Wolf in Heaven. D.A. Levy’s Secret Garden Mix. Samples from M. Kettner’s Full Penny Jar. Jim Kacian’s The Slate Step Brightens. She Rouses Briefly And Says Dragonfly by Chris Gordon. All original design elements included:
CROW HAIKU
May 28, 2013 § 1 Comment
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with nowhere to go the crow goes
faking it so long what’s real to the crow
wasn’t a raven only a crow
paces when he should fly the crow
the crow’s cock his asshole they’re the same
stubbed your toe don’t you know the crow
the crow of beautiful filth he’s the king
peeling away the edges he winks the crow
the fox has a tattoo you know it’s the crow
killed his friends to get to your bed the crow
left his home to get to your bed the crow
the crow don’t believe a word he’s said
even in the movies the crow’s really dead
lies when he tells the truth the crow
tells the truth when he lies the crow
the crow the crow the crow oh no it’s the crow
his kitchen dirty his bathroom clean the crow
it’s not his fault it’s yours the crow
fountains in the gutter the crow is good to go
made a mistake can’t say no the crow
what your ass means to the crow you’ll never know
hey crow foxes some are smarter than others
what is real and what do you know ask the crow
he can’t stay away from witches the crow
your teacher that disappeared one day the crow
good with rhymes and taking flak the crow
getting low on what makes him go the crow
he cares he doesn’t care the crow he knows
his crazy shit real his real shit crazy the crow
the crow even Chris Gordon doesn’t really know
prefers tobacco to occasional snow the crow
has an invisible friend named Joe the crow
nothing in this message rhymes with crow
the crow he’s visible but blind in the snow
to the crow she says you don’t even know
yokes and fetters baubles to the crow
he’ll live the crow at least one more day
to stay alive his script full of jive the crow
the crow he’s hoping for two seventy five
you aren’t coming back too soon no the crow
what you both talked about I don’t know the crow
wants to go fast but always goes slow the crow
the crow the devil’s in the details you know
in your bed in the parking lot the crow
don’t know his filth is your joy the crow
underneath all the stupid joy is sorrow the crow
all it takes is one corner the crow
he’s got one more day than you the crow
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April 10, 2013
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