Wet city: haiku sequence

Isolated
under our dark umbrellas,
we eye each other up.

*

I still remember
the way she flicked her cigarette
into a puddle.

*

Honey locusts stand
naked in the rain, surrounded
by shed yellow leaves.

*

The hiss of tires,
the slap of curb-surf against fire plug,
the hush.

*

Fountain in a downpour:
a homeless man in a poncho
fishes for change.

*

Wet footprints lead
to every other table
in the coffee shop.

*

A clear plastic sheet
keeps the nude cover girls dry
at the news stand.

*

Sun shining through rain:
umbrellas rise to reveal
astonished faces.

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Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with 100 trillion of his closest microbial friends — a close-knit, symbiotic community comprising several thousand species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa. In a similarly collaborative fashion, all of Dave’s writing is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).

8 Comments


  1. Me too. I know some of the others are more traditional in turnings, but

    I still remember
    the way she flicked her cigarette
    into a puddle.

    really got me.

    I remember that, too.

    Sniff.

    *skulks off into the forest, weeping*

    Reply

  2. Poor Theriomorph! I like them all and as a whole together, beads on a necklace…

    Reply

  3. Thanks, all. I kind of favor that second one myself, and I’m wondering if I ought to give some thought to developing blues haiku as a genre.

    Reply

  4. Very nice haiku!

    Blues haiku – excellent! How many haiku can you write that start, “I woke up this morning…”?

    Reply

  5. How many haiku can you write that start, “I woke up this morning…”?
    I’m thinking a lot. (I would take out the “I,” both for the sake of the syllable count and also to make them more bluesy.) If I use this idea, I’ll be sure to credit you. Thanks, Leslee!

    Reply

  6. Haiku Sequence: Pampas Grass

    pampas grass
    marsh mud glistens
    in the rowboat

    marsh wren’s cry
    the sun ripples onto the mud

    wetland chill
    a patch of ripples disappears

    marsh lightning
    the tree’s blossoms open
    into egrets

    wetland channel
    the moon spreads onto the grass

    Reply

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