january haiku

.

such wanting pulling

you towards me clouds gather

summer storms blue night

.

gravel under foot

a cricket dies on my floor

we wish words were wings

.

there is red desert

there is a place beyond it

sweet rain falls soft there

.

swimming in Ondaatje

swimming
in Ondaatje

swaying
with Chesnutt about to

choke
in my doorway


watching
the grass open

its arms to the rain




wishing

i had thought to steal





something that smelled of you

the correspondence

between letters
he fingers the tiny ridges
traces the small depressions
of each postmark on the buff envelopes

inside:

"to..."
"from..."
"yours..."
"with / in
/
i am..."



between letters
he sees small gaps
notes the matted fibres
the warp and weft of creamy paper

marked:

"when..."
"for..."
"if..."
"but / how
/
may we..."



between letters
he reads other, older missives
addressed "to whom... and "it has.. .."
softly tugs the knotted red ribbon packages


hefts their welcome weight



they fuck with their eyes open like books
amid cries of "author! Author!.."

reach

clicks n taps

a morse languageof
dotsndashes
onesnzeros
andno

-spaces-

a window discloses only
the ambivalence of

- halfdrawn curtains -




in braille
the fingerpads

loom large

and soft as pomelo's
the page makes its many points

the awl always
fitted to the palm ready

for pricking small boxed meanings




the trickle
of watersoundstherush of
skiesandsatellitestherelaystations

bristled porcupine antennae

balled around the soft belly
and the head tucked in
the nose in the navel




the scent of one's self

onthefingersthepen
mostespecially

- on the fingers -

a hypodermic whisper

to inoculate against



- the reaching silence -




sshhhLISTEN

the hush
the hushed
the hhhhhhhhhhhh
we have ears for the unsaid
we have mouths for the unspoken

skin
for remembering
skin


for



- reaching -

astragal

open and step

certain temples have

     a low lintel

     a high threshold

one must

     look down

     bow the head

upon entering it is

a way to honour

cross now

here is an altar

more freeform haiku

.

your coin-operated hips

i have change in

my pocket

.

little spider

gives you something

to remember him by

.

though the wind

soughs through the boughs

it cannot blow this away

.

three short poems

.

walking once more

to the end of the pier

there is a fisher

with a crabpot

there is a plane

overhead

.

walking and walking

throught the evening

towards a tower

"it's a navigation aid"

"it's a pirate's lookout"

we are in

perfect

agreement

.

another dog

bounds along the beach

"that one's cute" you say

i pant a little

wonder

if you see

my tail wagging

.

formal haiku

.

clouds are like fishscales

pines are black against the sky

summerdawn Glenelg

.

freeform haiku

making out on the beach

like teenagers

together coming undone

.

my body

speaks louder than i

i tell it hush

you tell me listen

.

feet walk one way

heart walks another

not stretched but grown

.

what continents we crossed

deserts and oceans below us

seen through small windows

.

before coffee

brave little muddlehead

.