Commentary Uncategorized

I H8 National Haiku Month


One reason to dread February: “National Haiku Month” and the abominations committed against this ancient form by well-meaning syllable-counters too presumptive and lazy to get it right or even give a shit.

While it may seem petty to ponder this subject as the world burns around us, “haiku” stripped of its technical and thematic elements hits my ear more sharply than fingernails on a chalkboard. It’s like hitting a piano with a baseball bat and calling it music.

I’m not suggesting that I’m any sort of master of the art. Far from it. But I do have a deep appreciation for this subtle and complex poetic tradition, and for 11/12ths of the year I don’t give it a lot of thought. And then, every February 1, my facebook feed fills up with measured grotesques, soulless and tedious evocations, self-consciously pithy (more often just banal) observations transferred into 5-7-5 syllable structure.

My wife says I should be better, that I should revel in the fact that, for a month, folks are toying with and enjoying language, and I get that, but Christ-On-A-Crutch, people. If you don’t give a happy hoot about what you’re doing, or doing it right, why do it at all?


My Poetry

Sugar Season Haiku Cycle

Spontaneous, no-revision haiku scrawled in a fit of boredom….

bmlthayerT1067Snow concedes, contracts
Shadows shorten with each dawn
Totems bleed sweetness




OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAElectric drill whirs
Thirteen miles of plastic hose
Grandpa had a bucket




maplesyrupGood dry wood burns clean
A grey squirrel tail, smoke and steam
Sweet in the hollow.

Commentary Funny and/or Strange My Poetry Poetry

A Percussionist Made It Personal–repaired draft

one thousand drums thrum
rhythmic primal pulse beats still
not fit to kiss verse

My Poetry Poetry

Lightning Trai-ku

A pencil-stemmed girl
Stands fist raised on a table
Curses defiance

Goblin black stormclouds
Enshroud peaks, squash alpenglow
Pour, blow, flash hate love.

She cackles at the wind
Bring it, motherfucker, yes
You surly bastards!

My Poetry Poetry

South of Lander

Sagebrush Wyoming
Redtail keen on the fencepost
Hundred-mile sunset.

My Poetry Poetry

weedy creek wrinkles moon

weedy creek wrinkles moon 
autumn owl shadow glides silent
mouse kneels under burnt grass

My Poetry Poetry

Whiskey Haiku

Warm amber ardor
Sweet rye sun, charcoal filtered
Joy-propulsion juice.