Haibun
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Two Haibun
What I liked was the way the sun, warm on my back, reflected off the shiny rails, shimmering as I tried to match my steps to the awkward spacing of the railroad ties. The crunch of the granite stones under my feet, the heat rising off the rust and gravel between the tracks. It gave… Continue reading
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Book II – Part 8 – Bodhisattva
I wore my suit and tie the way a Bodhisattva wears his poncho, my wingtips, his sandals. I drove my Mercedes C-Class like an ox cart, and read Kerouac as some revere the Dalai Lama. Continue reading
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The Order of Law
These poems were written during the Charlottesville protests of 2017. I could never have imagined they would fit so well into the intense emotions of the later George Floyd protests of 2020. Continue reading
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Cavignac
The wet streets, the passersby huddled against the chill, raindrops dripping under shirt collars, carrying umbrellas and wearing film-noir black fedoras. The nostalgic twinge of a jazz number whispered on the radio, the cymbals—the sound of the cars whizzing by, the rat-tat-tat of the drum—raindrops on the roof. Continue reading
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The Sky Closes
Morning | the sound of footsteps on sidewalk | chalk and limestone. The soft samba of children paying tribute to the World Cup. A warm breeze of fragrant pastel on stucco. Weathered wood, flaking paint. Continue reading
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A Moment in Satori
Often, deliriously high on the drug, he navigated the waters of pushers and addicts on the streets on a self-proclaimed mission. To help his younger brother experience life was Joaquin’s life’s aspiration, so he took it on himself to introduce him to every bad element he could find Continue reading
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Pablo Cúzco 