Haiku Archive

Nov 3 2015
cleanest day in months
the air shook out and beaten
like a rug in spring

Nov 2 2015
rain drops,so many
things could mean you’re not enough—
but today, you are

Oct 30 2015
even in the clear
light of shorter days, can’t tell
who here is disguised

Oct 28 2015
a morning burlesque
in dark gray feathers while I
beg to see the rain

Oct 23 2015
releasing the bird
in the hand, betting the next
train will give me room

Oct 16 2015
like a 3-year-old
learning tosnap, justthatmuch
autumninthe air

Oct 15 2015
hard decisions, which
skin to show, especially
in San Francisco

Oct 14 2015
summer hanging on
people in shorts watch silent
trees begging for rain

Oct 7 2015
a few leaf edges
in the spirit, the rest of
the world green and grey

Oct 5 2015
fooled into high boots
by a late cool dawn, thinking
summer was over

Sep 29 2015
season of plaid shirts
and devices and cold looks
and a cold gray sky

Sep 28 2015
another ocean
though not like ours—a redder
and less lonely sky

Sep 25 2015
wishing safe travels
and going opposite ways
in bright September

Sep 24 2015
tired but on your feet
my sweet one, shining just a
little in the sun

Sep 18 2015
one block over from
what you’d call the city, tree
breath kissed by the sun

Sep 15 2015
secretbay, aping
goings-onatthe airport,

Sep 4 2015
walked so fast and far
I was forgetting poems
before I wrote them

Sep 3 2015
often I’m unsure
which season to remember
walking out the door

Sep 2 2015
I guess I missed you
chasing the bus through town to
the end of summer

Sep 1 2015
back in the saddle,
city—a train window to
see your glory from

Aug 10 2015
how did you sleep, my
sweet one? I slept ever so
much more missing you

Aug 7 2015
perhaps the final
day of riding from the north,
the flat way, the strange

Aug 6 2015
sky looks like cold glass

or quarry water, this long
stretch from grey to blue

Aug 5 2015
the dire prescriptions
can stuff themselves this morning
— it’s a wide wide sky

Jul 30 2015
in the dry landscape
of commerce, hidden wellsprings
like water from wolves

Jul 30 2015
linguistic petals
falling into the zeitgeist,
just for now on fleek

Jul 30 2015
city of marble
and columns and flags, hidden
inside my city

Jul 24 2015
almost at the end,
summer waiting on a list
of things to get to

Jul 22 2015
get on with it now,
wind—I’m up, you may as well
blow me somewhere new

Jul 21 2015
yesterday’s blue sky
must still be there—but behind
the wall of today

Jul 17 2015
you looked so happy
sleeping late—I wanted to
shout in your smug ears

Jul 14 2015
good news from afar
and oh so far away but
the fog doesn’t care

Jul 2 2015
fog like a blanket
lies on streets where nobody’s
awake before nine

Jul 1 2015
a race between wind
and train to carry the clouds
and me—guess who won?


Jun 26 2015
rainbows, a sky full
of glorious rainbows from
sea to shining sea

Jun 25 2015
shouldn’t have taken
the 7—the 6 would have
been full of fresh air

Jun 24 2015
N-Judah, always
a legitimate excuse
eveninthe sun

Jun 24 2015
anything I’d do
for a train in the hand my
love I’d do for you

Jun 23 2015
underground too long
creeping past the path up to
where summer might be

Jun 22 2015
from gray to the red—
woods, across golden hills
with you at my side

Jun 19 2015
walking through a breath
of summer, seeing from here
it isn’t widespread

Jun 17 2015
publicly traded
sun toys with then destroys my
artisanal fog

Jun 16 2015
morning train balks
at diving down away from
the possible sun

Jun 15 2015
it’s just featureless,
the gray, except a breeze that
tells me I’m alive

Jun 12 2015

of course I miss you
but I don’t miss dawn—I woke
in the light today

Jun 10 2015
but how will the waves
know you from all the raindrops
riding to the shore?

Jun 8 2015
out with no jacket —
well, no jacket *on* but I’m
not fooled—never that

Jun 4 2015
will you freeze, my love?
you tell me it’s between you
and the fickle sun

Jun 2 2015
it’s as if you don’t
want to leave, you keep saying
sorry, turning back

Jun 1 2015
a white steeple stands
out from the fog while all the
higher towers fade

May 27 2015
bottlebrush blooms are
sad domestic metaphor
dangerous and bright

May 26 2015
we’ve all forgotten
the words and stand here staring
at the silent rain

May 22 2015
we’ll see if I get
as lost today as ever
now the sky is blue

May 18 2015
my love said goodbye
but my city turned all gray
and wouldn’t kiss me

May 15 2015
up far too early
& no chance to get away
from the needling sun

May 13 2015
but why would you think
I care about the sugar
in the coffee cake?

May 6 2015
if I said shadows
of cranes in the sun, you’d think
I meant birds; I don’t

May 5 2015
slow like molasses,
a cold morning but metal-­
sweet as all of that

May 4 2015
no sign of the spring
we had last week—just cold dogs
reluctantly walked

Apr 22 2015
seventeen is all
I need but you spilled hundreds

asking me to choose

Apr 21 2015
walk signs brighter than
the sky,sky brighter than my
short-sleep-clouded eyes

Apr 17 2015
still unprepared for
the sea wind on my shoulders
the first sleeveless day

Apr 15 2015
rude branch shoutsthe bright

green name ofspring on that self-
effacing maple

Apr 7 2015
then out of the west
a chill, a fearsome light, and
yes, oh yes, the rain

Apr 6 2015
little lioness
your eyes turn gold in the sun
through the bus window

Mar 23 2015
there must have been rain
there were drops on all the leaves
and wires, like jewels

Mar 20 2015
a little sunlight
the high secretive sky and
stacks of bright facades

Mar 17 2015
springing greens against
a stone grey sky, and my eyes
look out of season

Mar 16 2015
rejoice fools rejoice
cries raven on a streetlight
pole above it all

Mar 13 2015
city I’m waiting
all day through the clouds for you
to tell me he’s home

Mar 5 2015
I don’t know where you
went, little words, I miss you
I had things to say

Feb 23 2015
uneasy winter
it glides in the shadows like
a ghost ship off shore

Feb 13 2015
koi shirt with unreal
colors—Iremember them
in all those colors

Feb 11 2015
please don’t make me say
it, sun—I love you lighting
my girl’s hair, but wait

Feb 9 2015
out on the sidewalk
a spotlight and a bare branch
left out from the rain

Feb 6 2015
seabirds & storm light
led you to me finally
long awaited rain

Feb 5 2015
maybe you’ll say yes
sky, there behind your fan—grey
feathers, come hither

Feb 2 2015
dressed for another
city but no one stares—it’s
anything goes here

Jan 26 2015
I think we’re out now
with half the city at least
coughing in the sun

Jan 16 2015
what color is this
sky, next thing to none at all—
let’s call it winter

Jan 13 2015
in winter sunlight
hard pale bones of beauty shine
through your cold child’s face

Jan 9 2015
still through a hidden
open window somewhere, ice
blown from the ocean

Jan 7 2015

smirking prankster sun
you tempted me to forget
my layers, you jerk

Jan 5 2015
all the same people
on the same bus, renewed, still
waiting for the rain

Dec 22 2014
coffee, samosa,
& sweet roll; silent blue sky:
cold fusion breakfast

Dec 17 2014
morning rain, after
a night of rain on the roof
dreaming half awake

Dec 15 2014
leaves finally down
after nothing autumn did
could daunt them, rained down

Dec 9 2014
all day to catch up
(why didn’t you wake me, sky?)
from a long way back

Dec 5 2014
waiting around at
the starting line while the whole
rainy world goes by

Dec 3 2014
tally our morning:
flat tires: 2; missing trains: more;
minutes washed away…?

Dec 2 2014
so many of us
condensed inside the bus, can’t
even see the rain

Dec 1 2014
inbetween the rain
we awaken, well sort of—
eyes bright, lightless sky

Nov 19 2014
oh yes, open, sky;
I’ll wait here, upturned, eager
for little kisses

Nov 8 2014
yes I just scuffed through
leaves on a New York sidewalk
was it poetic?

29 Oct 2014
your coffee against
the late, late summer time dark
almost even odds

27 Oct 2014
left without checking
but I hope the stove was off—
fall sky was calling

24 Oct 2014
pretty one, I wish
I could leave you sleeping still
in the risen sun

20 Oct 2014
shouting the n-word
atthe driver, ugliness

shatters autumn’sspell

16 Oct 2014
next to the green park
sunlit, yellow machines I
can’t identify

15 Oct 2014
this beauty, this fall
morning washed clean, is only
a joke, and yet true

14 Oct 2014
even inland now
hard clouds gather at the edge
of the gentle fog

13 Oct 2014
reluctantly out
on the hot street after the
succulent garden

10 Oct 2014
oh nothing special
just one talltree looming from
a fog-softened hill

30 Sep 2014
all the shades of white
that don’t involve brightness or
reflect any light

29 Sep 2014
was it possible
I said all there was to say
about autumn sky?

25 Sep 2014

hiccuping through the
gray morning while all of them
pretend not to stare

18 Sep 2014
yes if only for
a moment there was rain, but
not enough—come back

16 Sep 2014
blue sky yes and all
the quiet ones, the trees hope,
waiting for fall rain

15 Sep 2014
through a median
strip, before the far ocean,
wild fennel and pines

12 Sep 2014
I thought I heard it
but how could a giant
bus chirp like a bird?

9 Sep 2014
you were showing me
pictures of butterflies while
we rolled through the fog

8 Sep 2014
brighter than any
streetlight and farther from sane
remembered full moon

5 Sep 2014
traffic is traffic
I’m jealous, flocks of birds, of
your third dimension

4 Sep 2014
I could lie to you
and say I was working by
lantern light—I might

2 Sep 2014
beginning again
with tea on the 33,
with half-open eyes

15 Aug 2014
feels like noon except
how it also feels like dawn:
lost track of the sun

30 Jul 2014
blessed be he who
leaves both coffee and a kiss
on foggy mornings

22 Jul 2014
one of those mornings
angels riding thunderclouds
quiet, all of you

15 Jul 2014
let the record show
it’s chilly on this side too
and I’m powerless

14 Jul 2014
a fierce cold wind peeled
the color off the trees and
mysteries dissolved

10 Jul 2014
missing cool forests

where damp ground sprouts horsetails to
counter the nettles

30 Jun 2014
if it’s not our sky
now, it was always someone
else’s stolen blue

26 Jun 2014
such inelegant
yet we love you with a meme.
much wow. very font.

26 Jun 2014
as the Cinnabon
line stretched out, he sighed “hell is
other passengers”

26 Jun 2014
oh jets with your lags
and then the other lags where
you stay on the ground

24 Jun 2014
out the train window
outside this drunken box, I’ll
watch the summer breeze

20 Jun 2014
double-­ strength tea and
double-­ deep blue sky—please one
of youwakeme up

13 Jun 2014
tracks and wires, yellow
lines all sunlit, all pointing
outward to the shore

11 Jun 2014
but the earlier
I leave, the more the train is
late, crowded, clouded

10 Jun 2014
unfitting pieces
oftravel in a fog-bound
puzzle of a day

9 Jun 2014
I found a sea breeze
to the south, diverting its
way around the hills

6 Jun 2014
even 10-year-olds
who shift sand all day wake up
creaking like June sun

5 Jun 2014
dressed for a cold beach
watching the fog bank regroup—
not to say retreat

3 Jun 2014
city of buses
it isn’t your day—halted
under deep white clouds

30 May 2014
crossing the white line
from winterlocked to the warm
but the line has moved

28 May 2014
riding on your trains

in your city ev’ry day
singing like a bird

27 May 2014
just a little less
madness for the rest of it,
this golden spring day

19 May 2014
made it just in time
we both had earrings even
little spring touches

14 May 2014
never heard of sleeves
except the dark soft sweater
hidden in my bag

13 May 2014
ragged fog remnants
over the water, shortly
finished by May sun

12 May 2014
all the summer we
can squeeze into a spring month
between fog and fog

8 May 2014
all my arrangements
like a spiderweb, fragile
and patched and still there

5 May 2014
city morning but
your hair still meanders like
salty ocean braids

2 May 2014
oh Friday, why you
gotta play me like Monday?
girl could use a break

30 Apr 2014
the odd hot day: did
you remember where you keep
your few summer clothes?

29 Apr 2014
forgot a jacket
so @KarlTheFog will be cold
comfort when he comes

28 Apr 2014
blue building did you
always lean like that, or did
blue sky make me see?

25 Apr 2014
out of gas would be
a foolish metaphor
except when it’s not

22 Apr 2014
up before my time
a few meridians off
from the usual

21 Apr 2014
bye for now my love
—I’ll call you, I’ll bring you sweet
gifts when I come back

18 Apr 2014
dawn in the shower
those words arrived and then left
me over breakfast

17 Apr 2014
too much, too many,
not enough pauses outside
breathing April air

16 Apr 2014
thirty-­ six fifty
(give ortake) and there stands my
tall girl in the sun

14 Apr 2014
grey April will you
shower me with predictions
of brightness to come?

11 Apr 2014
orange barriers
scattered all over, willing
my bus to grow wings

10 Apr 2014
parking garages
and time to enumerate
the poems I missed

3 Apr 2014
do I miss you love?
I dream of you that extra
hour I get to sleep

1 Apr 2014
a bucket oftea
is not enough to quenchmy
rain-drenched fire forsleep

31 Mar 2014
things, for doing—like

fog out of the west, they just

27 Mar 2014
construction machines:
yellow, red, green, and the soft
colors of hard use

26 Mar 2014
umbrellas make it
so much noisier, thwarting
the stealth of my rain

25 Mar 2014
my city bright as
bright against blue sky, it fades
like ink in the rain

24 Mar 2014
I braided your hair
by low light with soft ribbons
of fog woven in

11 Mar 2014
true streetlight, we were
friends last night, but I don’t want
you at alarm time

10 Mar 2014
a slow morning
because of a too fast clock—
sometimes they make us

7 Mar 2014
it could be any
season: clouds across the sky,
jerks on the buses

5 Mar 2014
a little better
a little lighter sky, and
straight up, I’ll take it

3 Mar 2014
breakfast arguments
and there sits the day—starting,
immovable, gray

28 Feb 2014
with the rain light, new
paths to visit the old same
world where all is well

24 Feb 2014
alphabet of plans
cast aside in order, one
by one, before nine

14 Feb 2014
and he said to me
“do you need chocolate?” and
I said yes—and you.

12 Feb 2014
fog of words swamping
all of us, picking a few
to keep in a vase

11 Feb 2014
can’t have a coffee
poem without fog to make
a warm heart matter

10 Feb 2014
all the shallow roots
no longer tormented by
water out of reach

31 Jan 2014
plum blossoms like kids
on Christmas—no no no, it
isn’t morning yet

29 Jan 2014
yes please yes please yes
please please please yes yes please please
more more more more more

24 Jan 2014
girlfriend, your bright boots
are the only things to pierce
the thickening haze

23 Jan 2014
I think my love needs
rain’s rumble or snow’s hush, the
sounds of winter sleep

22 Jan 2014
one more day, one more
bucket of sunshine—lost my
appetite for blue

17 Jan 2014
there wasn’t summer
and there won’t be winter now
could this be limbo?

16 Jan 2014
stars already rule
my love’s dreams without recourse
to astrology

15 Jan 2014

saw the streetlight wink
out in the twilight an hour
after winter’s dawn

7 Jan 2014
can’t feel the swing yet—
still writing the old number
waiting for a lift

6 Jan 2014
rumors of winter
all over but here only
pine needles & clouds

2 Jan 2014
hatched into the fresh
blue brightening year, cold and
wearing my blessings

18 Dec 2013
my lady, cold in
red, stares into the sea wind
searching for a train
16 Dec 2013
STEAM MT @AlexSteffen: IPCC climate report, explained in 19 paintings w/ #haiku
Science communication arts FTW!

16 Dec 2013
handy when winter
smashes overlapping hours
whiskey, poise, the sky

9 Dec 2013
a borrowed winter
or else we traded for it
still, it will come due

28 Nov 2013
gratitude smells like
cinnamon and think windows,
autumn sky outside

19 Nov 2013
pigeons, alley, flock—
how could there be so many
filling the grey air?

12 Nov 2013
one alarm goes off
the world becomes an echo
under the freeway

8 Nov 2013
the first winter rains
and that wild green where moss not
quite glows in the dark

8 Nov 2013
look outside, wait for
it, or you’ll miss the copper
undersides of leaves

7 Nov 2013
days like this you dunk
your oreos in merlot
even for breakfast

7 Nov 2013
smokestacks inch closer
to the cars ahead of me
but damn, I’m still late

1 Nov 2013
no more unicorns
except the usual course

of San Francisco

31 Oct 2013
spirits queue outside
this lighted sky, these locked doors—
waiting for nightfall

31 Oct 2013
waiting for nightfall
and then let the doors swing wide
and the dead pass through

30 Oct 2013
the app said no, yet
a bus appeared—keep faith, the
city finds a way

29 Oct 2013
nothing much to say
so I’ll hide in a late fall
sunbeam and listen

28 Oct 2013
yes, hello, is there
a bit of this glorious
fall sky for me too?

24 Oct 2013
no never never
you’ll never see blue again
ever? no never

18 Oct 2013
then a much slower
dawn snuck in around me—I
just noticed it now

15 Oct 2013
a little lighter
than normal, in the deep blue
light of late summer

9 Oct 2013
pastthe equinox
allthese days are edgedwith chill
like old-fashioned lace

7 Oct 2013
bus stop is as good
a place as any to do
your hair, city girl

26 Sep 2013
a postman jaywalks
with a banana; white fords
can’t parallel park

25 Sep 2013
such intensity
little gray dog on the bus
your eyes locked to mine

24 Sep 2013
moon over SoMa
so high, so pretty, so much
cleaner than the ground

18 Sep 2013
green blanket of pot
smoke instead of fog—sunny
morning in the Haight

13 Sep 2013
a cold white wind and
a cold gray morning sky and
hey what is this, June?

10 Sep 2013
fog like a epic
mass of cobwebs stretched across
my city then swept

4 Sep 2013
crossed it one more time—
the border between never
summer and summer

16 Aug 2013
friendsin-betweendark stations
subway rumbles on

9 Aug 2013
almost forgot the tea
and the packing and which stop
fog seeps in at most

8 Aug 2013
pigeon, I’m sorry—
we shut the door when you tried
to escape the rain

7 Aug 2013
strangeness of a moth
in a subway car, flitting
from screen to bright screen

2 Aug 2013
one cold moment of
reality, I’m back to
summer in my dreams

24 Jul 2013

up from underground
into the world of colors
that begin with blue

23 Jul 2013
my high flown musings
brought low by a downdraft of
escalator farts

22 Jul 2013
early morning walk
with you my little sweet one
rubbing your sweet eyes

18 Jul 2013
board fast, grab bar, tuck
tea in crook of arm, unearth
phone & type haiku

17 Jul 2013
white seagull against
white sky—easy to see how
lost you are, and why

15 Jul 2013
long days without bright
light, as if it’s rationed, as
if I am deceived

12 Jul 2013
fog like a magnet
with the wrong polarity
pushing me back west

8 Jul 2013
that hour I gave up
to your nightmare—go ahead,
add it to my tab

2 Jul 2013
write me a letter
from the sweltering sun, to
warm me in this fog

1 Jul 2013
oh I had such plans
of bouncing out at 8—then
sun on my pillow…

28 Jun 2013
the kind of day when
the last veil falls down to show
the faraway hills

26 Jun 2013
so, sky—no rainbow?
well never mind, we’re covered
in rainbows down here

18 Jun 2013
this might be the day
when it lifts off my shoulder,
a recovered bird

13 Jun 2013
little tea mug, I
can picture you exactly
back at home, alone

12 Jun 2013
seeing other lives—
I wish and then I settle
for other commutes

11 Jun 2013
silver beads cover
the tall trees in my yard this

January June

7 Jun 2013
well hello Friday
I don’t care if you bring clouds
only that you’re here

5 Jun 2013
fog, hiding something—
the secret is summer is
winter in its heart

24 May 2013
tomorrow we’ll sleep—
I want your eyes bright as the
feathers in your hair

23 May 2013
late long night and now
oh please someone hit me with
a caffeine hammer

21 May 2013
blue spring sky, you hide
a multitude of furies—
hide my fury too

20 May 2013
impressed, surfer kid—
I don’t think I’d boldly walk
barefoot on Minna

15 May 2013
my spring shoot, you’ve grown
so tall and snarky I tear
up discussing memes

13 May 2013
no city to be
seen and the air could be called
any word but warm

10 May 2013
oh pigeon, pigeon:
in iridescent feathers
eating god knows what

1 May 2013
dark blue overhead
as if it was always there
waiting for the fog

30 Apr 2013
spring is what’s outside
the window where the birds are
singing and not sick

26 Apr 2013
I saw you running
and didn’t run myself yet
we both made the train

17 Apr 2013
I always forget
those palms by the train station
until I look up

12 Apr 2013
riding at loose ends
nothing to do with myself
but stare at the spring

9 Apr 2013
oh that right there is
some other city’s morning
where the sea breathes warm

4 Apr 2013
spring sort of gloom, gray over
gold and golden green

3 Apr 2013
props to the ladies
standing on the inbound train
in skyscraper heels

27 Mar 2013
city made up of
intersections, I find I’m
translating transit

26 Mar 2013
winter is a fan
dancer, blue feathers flashing
over her pale skin

25 Mar 2013
chased the 33
two blocks through spring fog and caught
a stitch in the side

21 Mar 2013
man, my parking spot
this morning smells like old pee
in the bright spring sun

19 Mar 2013
bus shelter torn down
to be rebuilt but of course
today is the rain

15 Mar 2013

where are you seagulls?
without a storm the pigeons
get all the good snacks

13 Mar 2013
raven, I heard you
over all the disasters
the crash of your song

11 Mar 2013
an annual thing:
glorious spring day, the clocks
are all wrong, I cry

8 Mar 2013
oh I was sleepless
the whole time of your absence
come home with the dusk

5 Mar 2013
land, scrub, beach, waves sky—
view from an antique window
before the meeting

1 Mar 2013
riding backwards and
counting all the red lights that
shine fierce behind us

27 Feb 2013
winterpruning trucks,
thenlittle girls gathering
early-­ bloomedbranches

26 Feb 2013
oh blue, you are all
wrong, I pray for rain—but my
heart flies all the same

25 Feb 2013
smelling like cumin
winter morning frittered on
cooking not email

21 Feb 2013
back to work my sweet
well, just for me—you sleep in
and dream of deep snow

11 Feb 2013
parsing reflections
to see how that sleeping girl
leaned against the sun

7 Feb 2013
midwinter rain lulls
us all alike—still, let me
sleep among the just

31 Jan 2013
seeing how tilted
all the pieces of the world
are, but it still stands

29 Jan 2013
immune system, it’s
up to you—I couldn’t not
kiss my loves goodbye

28 Jan 2013
task forjasmine tea:
to field-wash out the latte
someone splashed on me

25 Jan 2013
it’s not Saturday,

it’s not summer, it’s not warm—
but look, the wild sky.

24 Jan 2013 so evocative, so almost a #haiku
“@paleofuture: a sea of ampersands; high tide
washing over the ones and zeroes”

22 Jan 2013
brightness from high clouds
shines into cracks—doesn’t keep
secrets very well

18 Jan 2013
my arms went so far
around you this morning, I
thought you’d disappeared

16 Jan 2013
you are the coldest
41 I’ve ever seen,
sunny blue or no

10 Jan 2013
sunlight falls down like
anything else, sometimes (like
today) into place

9 Jan 2013
grey January
shining with the last white lights
of the unfinished

7 Jan 2013
sometimes I forget
the importance of the glass
in a windowframe

3 Jan 2013
late New Year wishes
and a late haiku—I hope
better late than none

24 Dec 2012
time to stop doing
and spend a day listening
for the sound of bells

20 Dec 2012
right near the solstice
like today, the world swings so
hard I get dizzy

19 Dec 2012
time to wrap the year
up in boxes and give them
to the song-­ lit dark

18 Dec 2012
could have sworn I watched
the whole time—but then when did
you grow those long legs?

13 Dec 2012
turning a corner
into peace—tall army of
trees outflanks the noise

12 Dec 2012
thanks for the pictures
of the rainbow I just missed—
all I heard was rain

27 Nov 2012
a ghost of white rime:
as close as we dare come to
winter in SF

26 Nov 2012
fog like a forest—
grandmotherly advice:wear
red, don’t getswallowed

20 Nov 2012
grey ocean light right
out my inland window: cue
the daytime candles

14 Nov 2012
looklike love tome

12 Nov 2012
bright sky and cold wind—
my poor lips chapped like autumn
leaves await your kiss

8 Nov 2012
hadn’t realized
I had this fear until it
wasn’t realized

7 Nov 2012
mercurial winds
make old scraps dance: a day
of hope and paperwork

5 Nov 2012
no reason to be
scared, just seize the hour and fall
back into autumn

30 Oct 2012
all of us are small

against the ocean but all
together giant

29 Oct 2012
fog as a background
to orange and black—haunted
by our champions

25 Oct 2012
can hear a raven
I can’t see—oak wood voice sings
of bright black feathers

24 Oct 2012
dreaming of tigers
losing their stripes in a sea
of orange and black

19 Oct 2012
fog returned again
slinking through summer windows
on those damn cat feet

17 Oct 2012
hemmed in by traffic
in macro, and in micro
by my little one

12 Oct 2012
sweet slow summer hit
a cold gray wall—we don’t do
autumn in SF

11 Oct 2012
jerk move of the day:
zooming past into the path
of a fire engine

8 Oct 2012
off you go darling
into the wild woods—I love
the chance to miss you

6 Oct 2012 persona analysis #haiku by @KristenJohansen you guys!! ==>
find the metaphors
use play to make connections
then push it further

3 Oct 2012
dapper amputee
hitch hikingonRoosevelt

27 Sep 2012
foghorns kept my sweet
awake through the five o’clock
hour—and safe, I guess

13 Sep 2012
just technology
but it brings the world alive
with beloved ghosts

11 Sep 2012
aerial boasting
waiting for someone to throw
a double dog dare

10 Sep 2012
the smell of woodsmoke
plus the dusky red of sunburn
it’s all aftermath

7 Sep 2012
dear one, I support
your explorations, I do—

just not at breakfast

6 Sep 2012
surly despite the
clean blue sky— out of season,
all against the grain

4 Sep 2012
of all the things lost
in the weekend fog I’m still
chasing after that

28 Aug 2012
this sudden glory—
bright leaves against bright sky that
almost came too late

24 Aug 2012
pinned down like a moth
but at least I’m somewhere where
sun shines through the glass

17 Aug 2012
one day I’ll say yes
to all of it and more, just
not quite there today

16 Aug 2012
you might have seen it
crawl under the bed—oh god
it’s spider season

9 Aug 2012
it’s all a circus
may aswellwearsome colors
and get upside-down

6 Aug 2012
not too much spare thought
for Earth—Curiosity
fills my dreams today

2 Aug 2012
almost giving up
but that’s when it happens if
you wait: sweet summer

30 Jul 2012
alerted again:
some water main or protest
blocking me from you

25 Jul 2012
wearing winter clothes
in summer, thinking about
cooking winter food

23 Jul 2012
I prefer to think
of it as soft focus, not

11 Jul 2012
the only city
where you find sad lost mittens
on July sidewalks

6 Jul 2012
thinking of the moon
and Mars, the little landers
never coming home

3 Jul 2012
through a bow window
a raven and a red plane
cross above a church

27 Jun 2012
it’s possible there’s
no secret under the blank blue
sky—only summer

26 Jun 2012
funny with caffeine
how the dose from late last night
subverts this morning

22 Jun 2012
now you insist on
keeping bread in the freezer
can we still stay friends?

20 Jun 2012
indecent morning
not a wisp of fog, forcing
thoughts of sweet escape

19 Jun 2012
almost the solstice
a weightless waiting moment
at the swing’s extreme

5 Jun 2012
binary summer:
there is no inbetween state—
it is not, then is

1 Jun 2012
girl from McSweeney’s
haunts me with her sweet advance
copy: envy aches

23 May 2012

scarf, ring, underwear—
some one among these things has
got to be lucky

21 May 2012
this is how looking
through a cotton ball would feel—
chilly, blurry, strange

18 May 2012
rippling rings of hills
fade outward from a stone chucked
into Cole Valley

14 May 2012
grey blanket of clouds
drift down on me like my own
comforts left behind

11 May 2012
grapefruit rolling down
the center aisle—all of us
look up in laughter

9 May 2012
“hey, did you ever
use to wrestle?” um, no, but
points for a new one

7 May 2012
however many
hills to climb to get up where
summer is, say yes

2 May 2012
under sweet birdsong
cold wind owns the streets, winter
never out of mind

1 May 2012
can’t decide between
spring and summer—rooted down
waiting for a sign

27 Apr 2012
discussing drayage
and my small capacity
how much is too much?

24 Apr 2012
palms don’t seem like palms
all pressed together under
gray skies like odd prayers

18 Apr 2012
blue-feathered poems
might peck theirway out ofmy
skull,warmed by the sun

11 Apr 2012
madwoman’s laughter
drums against inside windows
while rain pounds outside

10 Apr 2012
please rain, be a balm
and not one more frustration
(I guess that’s on me)

9 Apr 2012
projector screen sky:
too bright and oddly empty
of information

5 Apr 2012

nice! “@JoshData: Being productive // Amtrak my mobile office // To New York, New York.
(following @cydharrell’s style of tweet)”

4 Apr 2012
the wrong sense of hives
for me—I define humming
ones, full of bright bees

27 Mar 2012
fervently assured
that stilts and hoops and glitter
make sniffles go away

9 Mar 2012
FTW “@jedsundwall: #Haiku based on Marilyn
Hagerty’s “THE EATBEAT: Long-awaited
Olive Garden receives warm welcome”

9 Mar 2012
car alarm chorus
echoes under the freeway
protesting a tow

8 Mar 2012
silly I know but
some biker flashed a peace sign
and my morning bloomed

1 Mar 2012
nice weather for bed
our sweet nest of white feathers
pity we’re not there

29 Feb 2012
what are we leaping?
kerbs, puddles, platform gaps, days

24 Feb 2012
early for Plan D
but here we are, unsure where
letters go from here?

22 Feb 2012
only an army
term can express the morning
I’ve woken up to

17 Feb 2012
only one awake
quietly peeking at snow
from under blankets

15 Feb 2012
skyline from a new
angle stretched out in single
file against the blue

14 Feb 2012
darling, they can all
go climb trees as long as you’re
still my valentine

13 Feb 2012
as dreary as cold
rain can be, optimistic
plum trees blossom out

6 Feb 2012
snow pranks remembered
serious rules don’t apply
up in the mountains

2 Feb 2012
ripples on ripples

lost minutes fan out from one
forgotten backpack

31 Jan 2012
oh household demon—
I’ll sacrifice socks, I guess…
but please, not the forks!

25 Jan 2012
completely awake
I swear—just closing my eyes
to the grey city

24 Jan 2012
bears in their snow caves
must be tossing and turning
January sun

20 Jan 2012
a dryer button
unpushed at midnight; at nine
mom jeans go to work 🙁

18 Jan 2012
black black blackout black
black and black blanks and blankness
silence,blankness, black

18 Jan 2012
sweet golden-haired girl
not as she seems—secretly

17 Jan 2012
still January
last I checked but maybe soon
it will be winter

11 Jan 2012
pigeons in SF
are real; owls are stone, staring
at frightened pigeons

10 Jan 2012
last night’s balloon lamp
like a night-growingmushroom
no trace ofit now

9 Jan 2012
bus windows rattle
as if the storm is coming
rainclouds hold off shore

2 Jan 2012
softness in the air
as if winter is so, so
sorry to be late

15 Dec 2011
remembered it all
except the forecast: steeping
in what I forgot

12 Dec 2011
thought I had lost you
would have been lost without you
yes you, my dear phone

9 Dec 2011
dashing through the snow
in a one horse open sleigh
o’er the fields we go… (did you know that was a #haiku?)

7 Dec 2011
running for the bus
again—that will keep us warm

if nothing else will

6 Dec 2011
some sad, parched vampire
must have bled the air of dew
now it thirsts for me

5 Dec 2011
out of sync monday:
I made the tea, you dumped it
in the sink; we laughed

29 Nov 2011
interlacing plans
spiral out from chance meetings
following the thread

28 Nov 2011
after Thanksgiving
icy air and lists to do
sprint to the finish

21 Nov 2011
everything’s waiting
pumpkin, cranberries, pecans
harvest gathered in

14 Nov 2011
learning sleight of hand:
outside, clouds vanish too quick
for the eye to see

8 Nov 2011
the thing with winter
blankets is how no one wants
to leave that embrace

26 Oct 2011

seeing things upside-
down: hard sky, deep blue ground that

will not let me sink

25 Oct 2011
deadly implements
cut down to scale—doll heads roll
under a cold moon

24 Oct 2011
harvest heat wave—slept
with open windows, food for
autumn mosquitos

21 Oct 2011
no I won’t tell you
the big secret, little one
even if you beg

19 Oct 2011
what is that beeping
disrupting my reflections
on the season’s turn?

17 Oct 2011
cascading lateness
the bus, my kid, myself, all
helpless against blue

10 Oct 2011
unprotected from
soft rain on the inbound tracks
drenched in memories

6 Oct 2011
purple western sky
like a wicked bruise fading
but while it still hurts

4 Oct 2011
tired morning regrets:
it wasn’t even that great
a book for all that

30 Sep 2011
rain falling upwards?
infernal snow? no—just kids
begging to practice

20 Sep 2011
sad evergreens—some
kind ofspruce?—don’twant to be
street trees, you can tell

19 Sep 2011
I’ll take summer where
I find it—september’s long
late slide into yes

14 Sep 2011
colorless morning
brightened by returning friends
circles expanding

13 Sep 2011
smells like lemon seeds
wearing lime green shoes—puckers
up my morning brain

12 Sep 2011
sudden, random goats—
are they a sign of something
or just, you know, goats?

7 Sep 2011

you can’t fool me blue—
can’t hide the mist on the bay
waiting to sweep in

2 Sep 2011
saw my secret twin:
same hair, same skin, same clothes—which
of us is evil?

1 Sep 2011
tunneling under
the last stretch of fog: going
east into summer

31 Aug 2011
cool guy tugs his sleeve,
hides a secret kid’s bracelet—
all trash beads and love

30 Aug 2011
sailcloth and skylight:
without the wind its nice but
light is not the sky

25 Aug 2011
a handwritten draft
excavated from the desk…
wow, it’s not so bad

15 Aug 2011
palm-wind, pine-wind, wind
sweeping clouds acrossthe sea
all the gentle winds

11 Aug 2011
two data points for
evidence: cloudy, angry
mornings all around

5 Aug 2011
approaching deadline
lights up the wrongness of my
first twelve ideas

1 Aug 2011
grasshopper, always
seek upward—park on hills where
no meter maids go

22 Jul 2011
headstand: no effect—
strong black tea: nil—where’sthatwild
horsewhen I need one?

19 Jul 2011
Murphy, great patron
of shit going sideways, please:
pass me by today

18 Jul 2011
out an hour early:
strange angles of sun, less strange
people on the train

8 Jul 2011
deep breaths, knowing I
can float on storm waves as long
as I’m full of air

4 Jul 2011
one nation under
many little skies, all joining
when the night lights up

29 Jun 2011

Church Street color scheme:
deep red plum leaves, green laurel,
magnesium sky

28 Jun 2011
what sort of jackass
needs a “My Mercedes” plate
on their Mercedes?

24 Jun 2011
astounding restraint:
40-minute delay&
noone stormed the doors

23 Jun 2011
sorry, it was me!
I switched to summer blankets
and brought on the fog

21 Jun 2011
laptop strap bungles
my blouse buttons,Ilook like
some geeked-­ outfloozy

9 Jun 2011
scribbling poetry
on a train with thumbs instead
of a ballpoint pen

8 Jun 2011
oh my love, you left
me coffee by the toaster
its jolt like a kiss

7 Jun 2011
bulldozer morning
rumbles my reverie—don’t
you know how to chirp?

6 Jun 2011
looking for the sea
I know it’s there three hills west
behind all this mist

3 Jun 2011
how bout just today,
for once, we all give in and
signal our damn turns?

24 May 2011
fog’s like a chained ghost—
outside its domain, people
laugh at your shiver

16 May 2011
symptoms of jetlag:
hungry for lunch already
(empty from goodbyes)

12 May 2011
seated in front of
the loudest children on board
god speed, all of us

11 May 2011
street sweeping machine:
wave of white noise drowning out
singing greens of spring

9 May 2011
fat pigeon preening
in a pothole bath, sprinklers
missing their target

6 May 2011
bedraggled iris

all alone, turning bluer
in the cold spring wind

5 May 2011
so sorry darling
for keeping you up—at least
I cough charmingly?

4 May 2011
my city brightens
like a smile when the sky is
blue blue blue blue blue

3 May 2011
who planted lilies
under this concrete buttress—
anyone I know?

2 May 2011
feeling a hundred
ways, trying to honor them
all inside one heart

27 Apr 2011
rosemary! why stop
with walls? grow over all these
unsavory bits

26 Apr 2011
birdsong from high up
drowns out the loud cold city
just on this one block

25 Apr 2011
bright April daisy
unwilling to wait a month
blooming with the rain

22 Apr 2011
inverse hangover:
elation not fading from
wine that wasn’t there

14 Apr 2011
stuffing my worries
in my bra where an old time
spy would keep the codes

8 Apr 2011
ginning up ghost tales
bloodthirsty little girls hunt
shadows in the sun

6 Apr 2011
people six rows deep
on the platform and stillness
what has stilled the trains?

31 Mar 2011
easily 20
pound bag of dry-cleaning schlepped
clean spring sun beats down

30 Mar 2011
looking down the tracks
at tank trucks blockading—this
isn’t looking good

30 Mar 2011
whoa, 2 days to Nat’l Poetry Month! I do the half-assed version & will try for 10 bigger-than-
#haiku poems in April. You’ve been warned.

29 Mar 2011
mechanical buzz
cuts the spring silence in half—

what are they building?

14 Mar 2011
one little lost hour
I’ll miss it till I find it
again in autumn

11 Mar 2011
people, cities, farms
easy to forget this world
is mostly water

8 Mar 2011
mustaches drawn on
subway posters—studying
the artist’sintent

4 Mar 2011
thin winter sun warms
me, magnified by thick glass
windows on the bus

3 Mar 2011
sweet resolution:
an interrupted story
now to be rejoined

2 Mar 2011
missed you so—kissed your
sleeping cheek last night—woke you
with kisses today

1 Mar 2011
colorless printer
pages streaked with stripes remind
me of days gone by

28 Feb 2011

they called it coffee
but my heart’s still beating slow
yearning for the spark

25 Feb 2011
stormlight from the west
outshone the grayscale glow of
dawn, such as it was

23 Feb 2011
contagion creeping
as the temperature drops
please please pass us by

21 Feb 2011
a certain famous
bridge can orange all it wants
winter grayness wins

16 Feb 2011
I swear the whole world
was sharp and white and loud—hail
but where’s the proof now?

11 Feb 2011
sometimes what it takes
is a subway derailment:
nice day for a walk

9 Feb 2011
hawk harassing crows
gaining on them, gliding near
jagged wings outspread

2 Feb 2011
shoot me little one
loose your taut string—this arrow
will always return

28 Jan 2011
winter isn’t dead
after all—white fog smothers
optimistic blooms

27 Jan 2011
plum trees bamboozled
stop with the pink blossoms, it
isn’t really spring

25 Jan 2011
forgot my headphones
no one except me can hear
the rush of the wind

24 Jan 2011
pre-dawn emailslie
inwaitlike ambush parties
behind the boulders

21 Jan 2011
where are you peace? blared
from the principal’s bullhorn
or curled up inside?

18 Jan 2011
guy with ironic
messenger bag, I want your
unicorn key clip

13 Jan 2011
my jaded palm trees
love the thrash of hurricanes
this drizzle bores them

12 Jan 2011
feeling kind of pale

not that I’m not always pale
maybe it’s the wind

10 Jan 2011
floating pigeon fluff
hits the rim of my mug and
sticks: city Monday

8 Jan 2011
why the hell didn’t I think of this?
diplomatic cables as #haiku

7 Jan 2011
cold vampire fog rips
at the skin of my neck where
my scarf doesn’t reach

6 Jan 2011
so rarely I catch
3PM sunlight, and birds
of the winter blue

5 Jan 2011
sweet little present
wing your way to her, don’t make
me have to track you

3 Jan 2011
time to get those dark
circles back under my eyes
back where they belong

23 Dec 2010
almost through the list
almost time for ribbons—hope
I have enough tape

22 Dec 2010
second-to-last ring
of the pre-dawn clock until
a new year rings in

21 Dec 2010
arriving early
parking in a spot reserved
for someone else—shhh

20 Dec 2010
I’d never really
sell her to the gypsies but
she joined the circus

17 Dec 2010
house looks so pretty
is there gingerbread under
there? time to find out

16 Dec 2010
a nip’s more playful
this thing in the air today
is using its teeth

15 Dec 2010
a word heard wrong knits itself
a lacework of fear

14 Dec 2010
stripes, plaid, polka dots
bows and rainbow rhinestones—more
is more when you’re 6

13 Dec 2010
foggy enough that
little white lights lift my heart

even in daylight

9 Dec 2010
waiting for Santa
in the rain like a ticket
that just went on sale

7 Dec 2010
rushing in my ears
wish it was the ocean—just
things moving too fast

3 Dec 2010
unsent xmas cards
unhung lights and ornaments
will the spirit come?

2 Dec 2010
well here’s to poison
here’s to my lady in pink
hurt her gently please

23 Nov 2010
cranberry sauces
pie dough and spiced nuts so far
get back to the stove

16 Nov 2010
how ever many
hours couldn’t have been enough
it was less than five

4 Nov 2010
toast in cheek, jacket
mostly on—it’s nearly dawn
I’m not near ready

1 Nov 2010

girl on the train keeps
glaring like it’s my fault we’re
uncomfortably close

29 Oct 2010
if one road is blocked
try another; if two are,
wise ones work from home

28 Oct 2010
pause before the list
takes me over completely:
palm trees, winter sun

22 Oct 2010
red balls on pine trees
with red leaves still on maples
seasonal madness

21 Oct 2010
better autumn #haiku than mine, by Richard
Wilbur http://bit.ly/92qWYb – I read this every

20 Oct 2010
a lot of purple
on the train today—sweaters
scarves, hats, gloves, prayers

19 Oct 2010
rose in a fog bank
fading waterlogged crimson
punctuates the grey

15 Oct 2010
on the mountaintop
telescopes with secret sights
wait for me, for night

9 Oct 2010
spying on my child
I glimpse her dancing pigtails
from across the street

8 Oct 2010
buttonholed and lost
the thread—where should I be now?
won’t catch up today

7 Oct 2010
dump truck, broken light,
unskilled parallel parker:
fast route slow today

5 Oct 2010
smacked on the shoulder
by a parachuteless leaf
I discover fall

30 Sep 2010
office park silence
cars, trees, buildings, bushes, sky
where are the people?

29 Sep 2010
grey salt cools the breeze
like stone in summer—almost
forgot it was there

23 Sep 2010
Halloween season
strange memories from back when
holidays were days

21 Sep 2010

you thought it was safe
you just didn’t know the rules
were never followed

16 Sep 2010
buttons haven’t sewn
themselves on since last winter—
just embrace the wind?

13 Sep 2010
hair smells of woodsmoke
even after two shampoos
miss my tent and stars

10 Sep 2010
winter summer fall
can’t guess which I’ll wake up to
world spinning so fast

1 Sep 2010
thinking of people
who walk farther, whose loads are
heavier than this

30 Aug 2010
thought I heard ravens
under the noise of traffic
they were only crows

27 Aug 2010
10th anniversary
can’t do much better than what
I said on the first http://cydharrell.com/avea_rahi.html

24 Aug 2010
remember Kyoto
summer trains, fainting from heat
but not falling down?

23 Aug 2010
sun’s out at last—now
the whole commercial world wants
to sell me velvet

20 Aug 2010
red heart leaves reaching
up from green street trees, secret
except from above

18 Aug 2010
please gentle worries
be kind, please don’t chase all my
poetry away

13 Aug 2010
how’s your luck today?
would you all be scared if I
wore my hockey mask?

10 Aug 2010
is it geekery
to marvel at the ridge route
secret, high, and clear?

9 Aug 2010
illicit haiku:
the muse attacks while someone
else shares their desktop

6 Aug 2010
suddenly a dog
bounds acrossthe dew-bright grass
run run run runYES!!

5 Aug 2010

sure it’s still foggy
but it’s a sweeter, warmer
world than yesterday

4 Aug 2010
the romance of rail
we commuted together
the first time in weeks

29 Jul 2010
cab driver admits
he hacked the dispatch system
recoding distance

27 Jul 2010
airport’srunning ads
these days—someone thinks we missed
our one escape route

21 Jul 2010
gates & grilles all shut
there’s been a walkout, they’re all
protesting the fog

12 Jul 2010
plans made in winter
are not guaranteed against
summer wear and tear

9 Jul 2010
cab feelslike cheating
my ill-gotten extra sleep
made legitthru cash

8 Jul 2010
bless you little girls
in hot pink shoes—the world is
grey except for you

1 Jul 2010
I don’t want to know
all your summer mischief plans
come on, surprise me

24 Jun 2010
all the painters’ trucks
retreat—color lost the day
outgunned by white fog

23 Jun 2010
I’m a figurehead
lashed to my own prow, breasting
the waves of cold fog

21 Jun 2010
solstice means more light
more swing, more sun, more life but
sadly not more time

21 Jun 2010
head camp counselor
was shocked we took the bus there
guess we’ll drive next time

16 Jun 2010
Ted Olson’s lips to
god’s ears—file under things I
never thought I’d say

15 Jun 2010
old commute, old friends
body heads for old office
in spite of itself

9 Jun 2010
10-miledrive throughfog

caughtthe sunset, yes!!

4 Jun 2010
mad blooms here and there
under dark clouds and warm rain
what is this, Japan?

3 Jun 2010
how in 7 hells
does dork plus dork add up to
a crinoline girl?

2 Jun 2010
forgetful morning
running back for this and that
forgotten routine

1 Jun 2010
jump rope memories
now my child asks how many
doctors will it take

26 May 2010
somedisaster, coming in
by theother gate

25 May 2010
stealing time to watch
a hummingbird on sage blooms
before the next storm

21 May 2010
Happy birthday Harvey
wish you were still here to hear
kids shouting your name

14 May 2010
inventory time:
fog outside, fog in my head—
what did I forget?

10 May 2010
cold spikes ofworry
twine throughmy vine-covered fence
like shards ofwinter

4 May 2010
fast mile past spring blooms
with my chatterbox telling
tall tales all the way

3 May 2010
missed the maypole dance
so I’m leaving a basket
on your doorstep—shhhh

28 Apr 2010
tired of spring, she says
too much rain and argument
and asks why I can’t stay

22 Apr 2010
just like that, a 5-
year old showed me her cell phone
and I joined the past

20 Apr 2010
fire escape raven
raised up its beak, knocked its wings
called down the thunder

15 Apr 2010
spring salmon sense home

and swim upstream—but any
stream works for hellspawn

13 Apr 2010
up in the cheap seats
watching the game’s momentum
shift back toward spring

6 Apr 2010
it all went smoothly—
breakfast, drop-off, time—until
a train got involved

5 Apr 2010
a mile of steep wet
concrete to start off the day—
caffeine would have helped

5 Apr 2010
first day, missed the bus
walked to school in a downpour
gaping at bright greens

30 Mar 2010
taking the slow route
and still arriving early:
daughterless morning

22 Mar 2010
sun shines out of sync
with my headcold and complaints:
screw this equinox

17 Mar 2010
who will chase the snakes
from the bars and meeting rooms
of San Francisco?

16 Mar 2010
springtime graffiti
sprouts from grey streets and bus floors
in coded colors

15 Mar 2010
spring was far too strong
a move for me this morning
I slid back instead

12 Mar 2010
somany fields of
yourtemplate-based personna
left utterlyblank

11 Mar 2010
mind blank like the sky
no clouds to imagine shapes
into words—just blue

3 Mar 2010
xmas lights still wind
around the trunks of street trees
birds sing in their leaves

2 Mar 2010
while commuters wait
rain and snow accumulate
patience breaks the ice

1 Mar 2010
flowers, cars, and words
stalled in the intersection
of winter and spring

25 Feb 2010
plum blossoms drop down

perfuming the gutter till
the street sweeper comes

25 Feb 2010
peace sign photo day
if it matters—can school kid
belief become real?

16 Feb 2010
still dreaming winter
dreams when the alarm goes off:
perplexed by spring dawn

15 Feb 2010
when the fog’s in close
crossing the street is crossing
into the unknown

8 Feb 2010
Downtown scene: instead
of taco trucks, document
shredders at curbside

2 Feb 2010
writing proposals
for the 14th—it ought to
be racier work

1 Feb 2010
should be feeling it:
singing birds, brightening sky—
but I don’t feel it

25 Jan 2010
sidewalk stains dissolve
last summer’s fruit washed away
but still remembered

21 Jan 2010
hard rain with bad news—
may the sprouts it awakens
live to better days

11 Jan 2010
missing bus, traffic,
but clean cold air on the hills:
walking was faster

7 Jan 2010
broken station signs:
where does the next train go? who
knows, who cares, somewhere…

6 Jan 2010
long morning shadows
chill our hands—the sun lets us
let each other go

4 Jan 2010
back to school, back to
work, back to back schedule—now
I can go forward

10 Dec 2009
…these ill winter days
before celebration starts
again—we miss it

10 Dec 2009
sneezing in E-flat
the hooded lady slowly
climbsthe subway steps

7 Dec 2009
broken umbrella

under my seat, its ribs stiff
like my frozen hand

2 Dec 2009
cold hands, warm heart: is
this love real or did you just
forget your mittens?

30 Nov 2009
Harvey Milk’s picture
on monopoly money
can buy a poem.
not for me of course
I have to pay in secret
the old-fashionedway

24 Nov 2009
winter day camp form
checked off, signed, sealed, and turned in
to an adventure

20 Nov 2009
that strange rattling sound
outside the window is RAIN
what else did I think?

19 Nov 2009
caught in the cold grip
of this awful cold until
tea resurrects me

16 Nov 2009
seaweed for breakfast
in hopes of forestalling these
early winter plagues

9 Nov 2009

early meetings and
late trains (boring I do know)
make for late haikus

5 Nov 2009
fellow N riders
sleeping with your headphones in
wake up—there’s fresh air

29 Oct 2009
almost halloween
snap in the air, costume done
grandma tomorrow

28 Oct 2009
patience—not among
my virtues(such asthey are)—
I’ll have to fake it

26 Oct 2009
alarm in the dark
felt wrong, resisted waking—
when can I fall back?

22 Oct 2009
Cold hands managing
too much stuff—cracked my iPhone
on the sidewalk—damn

7 Oct 2009
guessed wrong yet again:
boots and a sweater and blue
Indian summer

6 Oct 2009
Let’s all just pretend
we don’t hear the coughing that
rings in October

5 Oct 2009
Begged and begged and begged
for this; stopped begging; now that
I don’t want it, blam

4 Oct 2009
the quiet of a headcold…
I know, bad mother.

3 Oct 2009
Feeling archaic—
issingle-thumb typing like
emailwith “DearX”?

1 Oct 2009
Already running
late, running faster, falling
more and more behind

30 Sep 2009
Joy in the home of
odd and unseasonable—
summer comes at last

29 Sep 2009
Dirtiest offer
this nice girl’s gotten in years:
9:30 AM
I always wonder
if it’s a percentage play
or if I’m special

28 Sep 2009
Going underground
to escape the wind, to get
to work on cold lines

21 Apr 2009
remember street sounds
as a child in a heat wave
waiting, not asleep?

12 Jan 2009
let me go—commute
my sentence, end this N ride
—I can’t do the time
11 Jan 2009
This morning: coffee
check! orange, check! complacent…
but no cockatoo.
(sry to be so referential)

10 Jan 2009
Odd programs run us:
IF unseasonable spring THEN
throw things through the air
9 Jan 2009
foghorn stopped at last
tossed off the blankets to find
january sun