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
