Shadorma 310, 311

From the collection published in 2021, The Immediate and No Sooner.

Shadorma 310
8/13/20

Poppy seeds
in their plastic jar
Finger and
thumb grasp then
you do a shake-a shake-a
and pop the red lid

Shadorma 311
8/13/20

Arms dried out
cracked and pulled away
from shoulders
stiffened up
drawn in tight – my old age but
not: a clay sculpture.

Shadorma 304, Tanka 186

From the collection published in 2021, The Immediate and No Sooner.

Shadorma 304
6/25/20

Angular.
Shrugs broad shoulders
stands modest.
The T-square
real nice job you did. Ceiling fits
flawless on the walls.

Tanka 186
7/10/20

in a light rainfall
off down the hill a mile away
the train whistle blows
a tired and sorrowful voice
worn down around the edges

Shadorma 302, 303

From the collection published in 2021, The Immediate and No Sooner.

Shadorma 302
6/25/20

Magnify
the pattern lose the
coherence
gain the soft
fleeting vagueness of what you
see and will forget


Shadorma 303
6/25/20

gloss egg-yolk
yellow burned shine black
around the
edges bowl –
scribbled comet caught in glaze
here on our table

Shadorma 300, 301

From the collection The Immediate and No Sooner, published in 2021.

Shadorma 300
6/25/20

Chair demure
pulled close to table
breathes a word
in its ear
so slight a whisper. Makes sure
the plates do not hear.

Shadorma 301
6/25/20

The straight lines
divide up the view
pleasingly
fragmenting
the lackluster what is to
vivid what could be

Shadorma 298, 299

From the collection published in 2021, The Immediate and No Sooner.

Shadorma 298
6/25/20

new faces –
old reputations
rolled over
repainted –
we dress now in a new skin
nothing else has changed.

Shadorma 299
6/25/20

The raw boards
lie on the table
to be cut
nailed painted
put to use. The promise of
three parallel lines.

Tanka 184, 185

From the collection published in 2021, The Immediate and No Sooner.

Tanka 184
6/25/20

Eleven measured,
examined in increments –
the ruler stretches
reaches out for the number
reels it in. Names it. Knows it.


Tanka 185
6/25/20

aqua-black tangle
electric-shock potential
chevron-pattern coils
curled on the kitchen counter
What species? Power cord snake.

Tanka 181,182, 183

From the collection published in 2021, The Immediate and No Sooner.

Tanka 181
6/25/20

giant glassy eye
rolls in unfocused circles
a small orange speck
darts in and out of vision
floating past the bleary lens

Tanka 182
6/25/20

Sharp nose set to sting
takes steady aim. First easy
then don’t hold back. Bite.
The drill cuts its precise mark.
Fine sawdust floats to the floor.

Tanka 183
6/25/20

Whisk that word that means
beat eggs and cream pale yellow
a froth of bubbles
poured on mushrooms in pastry
shut the oven door. It’s whisk.

Haiku 836, Tanka 180

From the collection published in 2021, The Immediate and No Sooner.

Haiku 836
6/25/20

window screen sunshine
Gridded-out squares of daylight
can’t confine the sky

Tanka 180
6/30/20

A good hiding place
this stretch of stormy weather
flung across the map
I push aside one raindrop
The next one I climb inside

Haiku 833, 834, 835

From The Immediate and No Sooner, 2021.

Haiku 833
6/25/20

Tired waffle weave cloth
swipes its one-millionth wet plate.
Threads fray. Break. A hole.

Haiku 834
6/25/20

three dirty sponges
huddled together squeezed dry
pants of exhaustion

Haiku 835
6/25/20

skylight to ceiling –
up view from inside lampshade.
light bulb eyes its sky.