A Short History of the Birds and Bees
the first time they do it after lights-out in the library. the second in a borrowed backseat. the third in an empty classroom. the fourth in the woods on a scratchy blanket.
Haibun
Blue Sky
On weekends when the woman walks up hills, she does it to see the sun. At sea level, thick smog obliterates the sky, a gray and toxic smothering. Despite the altitude, once she gets above it she breathes easier. She has not seen such a blue sky from down below since childhood.
Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms
The blued barrels of the shotguns stuck out over the hood of the station wagon, pointing away from the men who were smoking, the smoke rising in the breeze, drifting into the corn field. The corn stalks rustled in the breeze.
Lunar New Year in Hanoi: A Haibun
A few minutes after waking I hear the incessant subtle slow ticking of the clock that depresses me with the feeling of seconds as a unit of time, how limiting that is, cutting out the past, constricting the present, turning the future into oblivion.
Awards, Haibun, Japanese Forms, Poems, Tributes
Musashi-san
Haibun Who are the ones who awake without hearing the sound of the sun-filled clouds dancing upon the edges of