10/06/99: Persona/Lipogram Haikus & Translations

10/06/99: Persona/Lipogram Haikus & Translations


Hums of gaskets,
surging 80 mph, strange
train through a strange town

Gurgling metal tracks,
A rush-hour amphetamine
Run into buildings

When form becomes pure
Metal sparks fade away high
Just a sensation

Awaiting decay
Of plastic mundane stasis --
A chronic aching

Nothing slows with speed but time
Rushing hours track metal sparks
Passing sensation

Not a train, but a
Fast but slowing button flew
Off past my low tracks


Something I find there
Deep within my shoe's soul
Snow forgives my step.

Platform chemistry
It's about supporting snow
Or false acceptance.

Science, waiting for the
subway in the weather. I'm
pretending to walk.

Chemistry pretends to science
Sentience like a rocket rises
as melting snow falls

Periodic table
is so pretentious. It ups
& water's over.

My favorite one
is water. But it's not named
on this thing. What's wrong?

As pantheons rise and fall,
this litany too, a caste
of tenuous deities


My friend Eileen says
she knows how to build pipe bombs.
And I don't doubt it.

Can you believe pigeons
make paper airplanes whenever
they drop droppings down.

Fly me, fly me, not
Hijacker paparazzi
Man across the Bay

If I could blow it all up
The pigeons would fall on papa's lap.
There is no up or down

Poetry terror-
ism, all for common good.
I'm a believer!

Lovely E., spouting
her lovely poems, her sweet


The sunday crossword
Leaves inky stains on my mind
Thumbprint of 'nother

sweet puzzling over
tiny prisons of words
Thinking, fill in the blanks.

Gentle pond'ring in re:
Miniscule cells, letter-filled
Satiate boxes.

the puzzle solved,
the grid remains.

Mother's thumb, a hot
cross word stoked carceration
If only words blanked

Once upon a time
I could feed myself on just
letters in boxes


Those that think they're there
Are really here, over there.
I think I'm right here.

Neither here nor there
As nothing I am no where
As something stops slowly.

Happy in nothing
I am happiness, nothing
everything inside

a thing or maybe
a non-thing reminds me to
remember myself

Thinking drives without
license. Permission evades
my wandering psyche.

Sentient chauffeur, no
I.D. -- escapes and goes
road tripping. Mind melt.

There there there. There's no
where to go, there's no there there.
Hear hear. There there there.


jumping up through thought
sunshine filtering like soft
biscuits rising

leaping skyward, my
brainlessness is similar
to unyeasted bread

celestial crumb
The thought of God is
unlike God's thinking.

              [I think]

Falling and rising
Both have dynamics of weight
But one is more fun

Manic depressive
Aching highs paid for by lows
One gone means both gone


The glasses I wear;
The color shirt I have on --
They match perfectly.

Faithful they nestle
each adornment in its place
these trinkets & linens a symphony.

Against my skin warm
For the world that rubs up against
I am all this and more.

Macy's had a sale.
Jonah had a foreboding.
I have a sweater.

There was some money.
There was some waiting. There was
Something I was wearing.

I'll pay more money
and walk     so as not
to wait for the bus.

Spendthrift, with shoes to
burn. MUNI, tardy again!


in infinity
person I don't know, watching
peace in not knowing

of eternity,
he whom I never met, sees
bliss from non-meeting

always the stranger,
sees, of sorts, this strange
anonymous bliss

"Nobody knows me"
A void a risk from afar
An ominous kiss

Everyone swears that
I am transparent, empty
And they can't reach me

Transparent trans
vestite transporting transnat-
ional transit troops


the reams of paper
accumulate. i'll bring them
for you to write on.

archive of dustpiles
stacked to cash & carry.
my breath composes.

asthma of action
wheezing thoughts and choking fear
keep her safe inside

Rouses like a stir,
this muse of papers
restless and safe.

Morning time rings us
alarming prose jumps into
a backward spinning

evening never ends
something less than clever seeps;
moves forward only


Some people prefer
Dirt to pomegranite seeds
But where's my vodka?

More than a few choose
Silt over Persephone's
Fateful snack. Barman!

The menu fell down
on my lap as I drank from
an old tin cup

Goddess, bartender
bring me that red season change.
I'll drink the mud dregs.

This, bartender, is not what I ordered
It's not even a high choo, it breaks meter's rule.
I'll have another vodka.

Your prescription swill
however apt,
a startling chill.