CHRIS GORDON haiku ’96 part one

February 23, 2016 § Leave a comment

 

one dandelion
seed clings to the stalk
no diagnosis

 
a leaking faucet
butterflies mating in
all this smog

 
rain drops catch
the lamps and
strike my face

 
visible only in
the shaft of light
a circling fly

 
storm clouds
a circling crow
drifts eastward

 
the buildings
disappear a coot
surfaces

 
the radio
barely audible
late at night

 
the snails have
paid more attention
than I have

 
my finger follows
the wet curves
of her ear

 
underneath
the colorful garbage
hints of autumn

 
a lamp left on
in an empty room
sparrows at dusk

 
a moth has flown
out of my mouth
or so it seems

 
drawing blood
she says I look like
my name

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading CHRIS GORDON haiku ’96 part one at antantantantant.

meta

%d bloggers like this: