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 stalks

tipped with sugar