Clerihews for Haiku Editors—Present

First published in Prune Juice #23, November 2017, on pages 53, 68, 86, 99, and 117. I originally wrote most of these clerihews in November and December of 2005, with additions in 2006, 2013, 2014, and 2017. See also “Clerihews for Haiku Editors—Past” and “Clerihews for Haiku Editors—And Then Some.” + +

Present Editors

Susan Antolin

keeps it goin’—

we’d be forlorn

without Acorn.

John Barlow

puts a carload

of ku into Snapshot

he’s no crackpot.

Randy Brooks

publishes books;

haiku’s always in ’em,

seemingly ad infinitum.

Cherie Hunter Day

has her haiku say

in many different ways

setting journals ablaze.

Stanford R. Forrester

used to be a choirister;

now bottle rockets rise

over Connecticut skies.

Ferris Gilli

isn’t silly

’bout haiku—

that’s sure true.

LeRoy Gorman

is the foreman

of haiku as we know it

by every Canadian poet.

Lee Gurga

never wears fur ga-

loshes at work as a dentist

—it wouldn’t be centrist.

Steve Hodge

likes to lodge

in senryu lands

with both hands.

Jim Kacian

loves to vacation,

but to every distant nook

he takes his haiku notebook.

Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy

surely is worthy,

choosing haiku to fit

into Blithe Spirit.

David McMurray

is in no hurray

to publish haiku

that’s just about you.

Scot Metz

seeks and getz

gendai ku

for you to chew.

Mr. Paul Miller

is a poetry pillar—

he’ll remember you

when editing ku.

Ban’ya Natsuishi,

it’s easy to see,

thinks the pope can fly

in the Ginyu sky.

Christopher Patchel

in his satchel

keeps a ku

just for you.

Matthew Paul

has it all—

quite a pedigree

in haiku poetry.

John Stevenson

reads a ton

of haiku every year

while drinking sake . . . or beer.

Ian Storr

loves to implore

that you write

with Presence in sight.

Alan Summers

never winters

on the Riviera—

no haiku there-a.

Michael Dylan Welch

has been heard to squelch


they give him hives.

Don Wentworth

loves to unearth

good short poems

on jeroboams.

Jeffrey Woodward’s

selecting words

for fine haibun

to make you swoon.