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Advice to The Beginning Haikuist
Now take up the penand write economicallylest you run out of First published in Defenestration, Vol. XVI issue 2 August 2019
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LURKER
It is there waiting, no doubtanother trap, simple initially seeming purebut harboring a malevolence that willsoon consume you, leave you broken,so considering the pen as a weapon,to lay waste to it, or for seppuku,both thoughts will no doubt come to mind. It has always been like this, always will,different if you chose the digital path,but…
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LINES
We love drawing lines and borders. There are few things we do better than that. But increasingly we have lost our once finely honed skill at placing them where they ought to be. I won’t even get into walls on borders to keep out families, those like our families were once. I mean small lines…
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THE POET?
He stood in front of the classin a more than half empty lecture halland leaned into the podium, almost smiling. He was here, a real poet, half famousby his own reckoning, totally so by ourssince he was rumpled, as a poet ought,his sport coat tweedy and ill fitting. Still we harbored some doubts,for there was…
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GREATLY EXAGERATED
Many now say the age of great literaturehas died, the mortal woiund inflictedby the advent of the self-correctingIBM Selecric typewriter, when wordsbcame evanescent, as suddenly goneas when they spilled onto the page. Others, I count myself among them,believe the wound was not fatal,deep certainly, but yet there remainsa faint pulse, ressuscitation possiblewith the application of…
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WRITING MY STORY
With the stroke of a pen,they enabled me to write the story,gave a framework on whichI could hang all mannerof dreams and assumptions,inviting a search I neverquite got around to making. I wandered the beachesof Estoril in my dreams,stalked the avenues of Lisbon,looking for a familiar face,but found only ghosts. With the stroke of a…
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PLEASE TO FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS
At least some Chinese manufacturershave seemingly grown tired of ourendless mockery of their instructions. No longer do they tell me “please to beinserting the extended aspectof part A into part B in the slotted area.” Now they give me wordless instructions,a series of pictures with lettered partswhich seems easier until, after unpacking the many pieces,…
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SNAKE, PRAY FOR US
In a time set aside for mourningwe easily remember those, lovedor despised, taken by age, disease,war or poverty and neglect. But trapped in our isolationwe should also pause and recallthe snake, condemned for offeringknowledge for which we were ill-equipped. Let us not forget the ram,whose only sin was to bein the wrong place at the…
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WRITERS
I was born the same day, ina much later year as Thornton Wilder,a fact that had no impact at allon my life, since I discovered ourcommon birthday long aftermy life’s path was half tread. I read him in my youth, and mustadmit I can recall nothing of whatI read, which I attribute to allthat I…
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PENNED IN
He stares at the collectionof pens crammed tightly intoa coffee mug whose handlehad long since broken away. He knows some are dead,awaiting a proper burial,following a brief memorialservice paying homageto their illustrious past. He is certain that oneor more is secretly harboringthe poem or story that hehas been meaning to write,the one that the journalon…
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an old writer and his words 