Food Haiku
Individual poems first published in various haiku journals. Two of these poems (“after-dinner mints” and “bookmobile day”) were also stamped onto paper grocery bags distributed at selected Seattle grocery stores, and also part of Bob Redmond’s SLUG Food Haiku Reading that I participated in at Seattle’s Jewelbox Theatre on 24 August 2009, and also appeared in a handmade anthology of poems from this poetry event. See photos and the Seattle Times article about this reading. Nearly all of these poems have also been done in Japanese versions by Hidenori Hiruta at the Akita International Haiku Network (scroll down to find my name).
birthday picnic— grandma’s throw half way to the toddler
we walk the boardwalk hand in hand sharing ice cream headaches +
after-dinner mints passed around the table . . . slow-falling snow
busy Italian restaurant— happy birthday sung to the wrong table
express checkout the fat woman counts the thin man’s items
at his favourite deli the bald man finds a hair in his soup
rice chaff whitens the scoop— supper alone
apples picked and the casket chosen— lingering sunset
grocery shopping— pushing my cart faster through feminine protection +
a crab apple from the highest branch rattles down the rain spout
the waiter interrupts our argument on abortion— a choice of teas
first day of school— I eat my buckwheat pancakes in silence
bookmobile day— huckleberries bloom along the white picket fence
breakfast alone slowly I eat my melancholy
a table for one— leaves rustle in the inner courtyard
a deer leaps— the hunter’s closed eye
tarnished silver the only guest eats in silence
a withered apple caught in an old spine rake . . . blossoms fall
gunshot recordings echo over the vineyard . . . a grackle’s stained beak
a broken bamboo cane— ripe tomatoes grow along the ground
cafeteria line— the good-looking girl looks at my plate apple picking— a feather blows from the empty nest
Valentine’s Day— a cherry tomato bursts in my mouth +
summer vacation— our rhubarb stalkstipped with sugar
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