Haiku (Never Published)

 Drinking my tea
Without sugar-
 No difference.


The sparrow shits
 upside down
--ah! my brain & eggs

Mayan head in a
Pacific driftwood bole
--Someday I'll live in N.
Y.


Looking over my shoulder
my behind was covered
with cherry blossoms.


 Winter Haiku
I didn't know the names 
of the flowers--now
my garden is gone.


I slapped the mosquito
and missed.

What made me do that?

Reading haiku
I am unhappy,
longing for the Nameless.


A frog floating 
in the drugstore jar:
summer rain on grey pavements.

 (after Shiki)

On the porch
in my shorts;
auto lights in the rain.


Another year
has past-the world
is no different.


The first thing I looked for 
in my old garden was
The Cherry Tree.


My old desk:
the first thing I looked for
in my house.


My early journal:
the first thing I found
in my old desk.


My mother's ghost:
the first thing I found
in the living room.


I quit shaving
but the eyes that glanced at me
remained in the mirror.


The madman 
emerges from the movies:
the street at lunchtime.


Cities of boys
are in their graves,
and in this town.
.
.


Lying on my side
in the void:
the breath in my nose.


On the fifteenth floor
the dog chews a bone-
Screech of taxicabs.


A hardon in New York,
a boy
in San Fransisco.


The moon over the roof,
worms in the garden.

I rent this house.



[Haiku composed in the backyard cottage at 1624
Milvia Street, Berkeley 1955, while reading R.
H.
 
Blyth's 4 volumes, "Haiku.
"]

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