PAUL M. ant ant ant ant ant seven

March 16, 2016 § 2 Comments



fast river
white seeds
cross without me


chance of showers
a frayed rope
linking the mules


redwood stumps
some color
left in the sky


winter pruning
she changes
away from the window


snow outside
everyone else rises
to receive the host


hard winter ground
we argue about
the constellations


this year’s paintbrush
a path between
granite moraines


meeting the neighbors
the shapes of things
hidden by snow


warring countries
in the botanical garden


spring buds
the creek over boulders
of every size


snow-capped peaks
loom across the border
a favorable exchange rate


seventh full moon
men at the bar
watching the door


string from
a pigeon’s foot
March wind


talk of rain
I find myself
in the old neighborhood


first sunburn
an ant
on the lily arrangement


returning warmth
the first bird
into the house


war in the news
new leaves on a tree
my grandfather planted


summer dusk
the awkwardness
of a first guest


manzanita lanterns
a whole day
for idleness


distant thunder
the pigeon coop


flowering maple
the gait of horses
after a long winter


rustling grass
bundle of letters
from an old lover


earthquake weather
the pliant body
of a sea cucumber


heat wave
I count
the remaining eggs


red maple leaves
a mosquito bite
scratched open


winter nears
a beach full of shells
no two the same


crescent moon
a homeless man
asks about Bob


chill in the air
fire-blackened needles
still on the pine


winter night
a hard crumb
under the sheet


even after a snowfall
a gap in the wall
from a missing stone




EVE LUCKRING ant ant ant ant ant xiii

September 24, 2015 § Leave a comment

from Fifty-Three Divided by Seven or Eight


a zero sum coyote, probable rain ≥ attitude + eucalyptus


‹ itch relief. scavenging ≥ a candybar wrapper in scat


› a stranger blowing me kisses ≤ a stone’s hold


› unsystematically fluttering blackbirds but they’re not


› uninvited. a wasp lays eggs


close-captioned women who set themselves on fire


≥ a behavioral problem in the bathroom ≤ anti-


≥ a glance back ‹ their full upright and locked positions


≥ loosened for the ride › peaked. a heart with wings


dusk fallen down on her luck bags inside bags inside bags ≥




August 30, 2015 § Leave a comment

the crow gives away all his buttons





August 27, 2015 § Leave a comment

she says it’s soil not dirt dirt is dead





August 11, 2015 § Leave a comment

on Pluto there are shapes we recognize





July 26, 2015 § Leave a comment

only if you clean all her little jars





July 16, 2015 § Leave a comment

old age it’s fish sticks and mayonnaise



Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with Haiku at antantantantant.

%d bloggers like this: