Y U no respect?
NP settle for ugly
SF stepsister
Oakland
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Y U no respect?
NP settle for ugly
SF stepsister
At every gate
we jockey for outlets, our
iPhones running low.
Still-in-my-bathrobe
day, a car without gas that
can’t leave the garage.
What’s your platform? they
ask, but frown at haiku blog.
Thanks. You’ve proved them wrong.
Seventy-thousand
words a book–why? Seventeen
syllables enough.
We both had bad dreams
but she’s okay, Portland-bound,
scratching poison oak.
Like skin, snow sags droops
puckers. Tears slide across a
hard crusty surface.
as told to Evernote this morning
writing the story
of my life so far only
seeing blank pages
Ideas on the fly,
dictate to iPhone. Moleskine,
we hardly knew ye.
Outside the wind chimes
plead, usually placid
notes wrenching, piercing.