Debbie Strange: A Haiga
Posts
Got News, Part 8
It still makes me laugh when I said I was quoting Milton Acorn who’s a Canadian poet and your shot me the sharpest look I ever saw come out of you. What kind of blame fool do you think I am. I know who Acorn is. Only later did mom say you wrote poetry when you two met and that you’d burned it all, like you did with your old notebooks and records. What was it with you and destroying? Mom did it too. Your desk looks just the same except all the coil ring notebooks she tore out every piece of your handwriting. You approve don’t you? Well, I don’t but it’s too late to fix. Your old school books are safe. Mom will hardly let me look at them but she thinks they’re antiques and may be worth something some day. I say they’re worth something now. neem wood brush mirror beauty set dust
Two tiny golden ratios
Two tiny golden ratios, two snails merge. If the puffed-up bird steps into the scene, it’s as the honoured guest, love’s sumo self. Medrie Purdham
Got News, Part 7
It’s almost spring again. A gain, a gin. Aging, raging. I can still see you with solitaire, your pepsi and gin. A gun rack of rifles overhead until the law changed and made you hide them where they were to be locked up. At least I never knew where they went. You kept the rack up, invisible guns, the rack as proof there were some near. sun thru the cat’s ears cloud
FOUND: Live Rust
The chimp signs hugs in his enclosure. -- Michael Robbins, "Live Rust" ( The Second Sex , Penguin 2014) By permission of the author
