9 Haiku

Dark fingers gripping
sunburst-colored coffee cup—
train to work at dawn

A burst of pigeons—
sudden wind in the crosswalk
when the light goes green

Foggy lamp-lit street—
silhouette of a dog leashed
to a man who coughs

*

Cafe at dusk:

Tiny neon script
glows in the shiny dark pond
inside my wineglass

Under a half moon—
I don’t want to fit words to
anything right now

Snake of light at night—
lamp-lit electrical wire
twists in rainy wind

*

Down in Baton Rouge
the wooden telephone poles
are shaped like crosses

Long line of light slides
slowly on the horizon—
huge cruise ship at night

Framed by the window
figures pass on the footpath
in the milky fog



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Faces In The Sky

I’m a busy guy
And my life is flying by
But I’d rather spend my time
Gazing at faces in the sky

I’m waiting for a wave to
Wash this world away
Or a roaring storm to
Blast us into space
Where we won’t be working
Just so we can pay

To stay another day
And we won’t have to worry no more

The madness of this business
Twists its way into my mind
It fogs my thoughts with poison
And has me groping blind

I’m waiting for a wave to
Wash this world away
Or a roaring storm to
Blast us into space
Where we won’t be working
Just so we can pay

To stay another day
And we won’t have to worry no more

(Men who sell tobacco
Look like cigarettes
Their faces are all mashed out
And so dead)

A huge and hazy halo
Hovers over the full moon
And the eyes of burning stars are calm
And stare down through the roof

Of a sky that shows no limit
But still holds us to this place
Where we’re spinning in a circle
Through the emptiness of space

Stars are not so far once
You fall through the floor
Of a world where we whirl
Round and round some more
Circle after circle
Through the endlessness

Until there comes a day
When we won’t have to worry no more



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Antenna

You’re an antenna in the blithering air
You’re getting messages there

Scrambled signals coming from everywhere
They’re getting lost in the blare

You’re getting tired and you’re head is a mess
Brittle metal in the storm and the stress
Your antenna’s getting banged up and bent
You’d better get out and untwist it again

Ever get the feeling that it’s all gonna work out right?

You hear it humming on a low frequency
Like a rumbling boom

A signal singing through the shivering breeze
It comes tumbling through you

You’re getting tired and you’re head is a mess
Brittle metal in the storm and the stress
Your antenna’s getting banged up and bent
You’d better get out and untwist it again

Ever get the feeling that it’s all gonna work out right?



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