Thursday, January 29, 2009

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


Tuesday, January 27, 2009

swimming in Ondaatje

in Ondaatje

with Chesnutt about to

in my doorway

the grass open

its arms to the rain


i had thought to steal

something that smelled of you

Saturday, January 24, 2009

the correspondence

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


"with / in
i am..."

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


"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!.."

Wednesday, January 21, 2009


clicks n taps

a morse languageof


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

bristled porcupine antennae

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

the scent of one's self


- on the fingers -

a hypodermic whisper

to inoculate against

- the reaching silence -


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

for remembering


- reaching -

Tuesday, January 20, 2009


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

Thursday, January 15, 2009

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


walking and walking
throught the evening
towards a tower

"it's a navigation aid"

"it's a pirate's lookout"

we are in




another dog
bounds along the beach

"that one's cute" you say
i pant a little


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