Latest Haiku
Previous haiku
Anthony Lusardi
on a dead deer
the highway asphalt. reeks of exhaust and burnt rubber. the cars and trucks go by. the sun boiling and you rotting. an eye fixed on a sea of green beeches. only one of your antlers unbroken. pointing up to the mountains.
does your herd still graze on daffodil meadows? does your doe stand alone. waiting for your grunt call? does your fawn know that it must face the wolves and game hunters alone?
eventually. the vultures will pick off what’s left. eventually. the roadkill wagon will carry you off. or eventually . . . you’ll be light enough for the rain to wash away.
yet now. your fawn dares itself to cross the river. its head and antler stubs. just above the rapids.
highway traffic
above the tree line
the mountain view
Srinjay Chakravarti
* the tattered scarecrow: a raven perches on its shoulder * fireflies . . . sparks from a hammer on the anvil * spring dust sparrows squabble in the forenoon * a dry leaf on the ground . . . a death’s head moth * a silent gong inside the pagoda . . ....
Maureen Kingston
Hooking Up Civilization writ large shouts “all roads lead to Rome.” Civilization writ small builds the roads. The paper clip’s one of the latter, a civilizational bit player that resembles all the other clips swimming in the jar. Its...