Haiku 33
The library’s doors laid flat for their new fall paint yellow tape guards maw
Read the Tao Te Ching and mop up cigarette butts in time, convergence
Ah, but how much time… suppose I haven’t the strength to while away Now
Posthumous toilets wrenched sweatily curbside on crooked revue
Dark at 1:20 (pm, that is): Straight into summer-ending storm
Mecca Cafe fries left as breakfast for the youth sleeping in my street
She’s manic-cycling (again?), shopping for us all dog food, before dawn
I can’t die today I have this steel drum music to lull my head, to
Escalator from tunnel to Third Avenue darker up than down
The iPhone charges all that was spilled at dinner spackles down a drain
This house is on fire and I can only ask, how much did you have saved in there?
Leaning on a gate two peddlers in dusty shoes tongue-bathing Sno-cones
Her inner thighs flex her bottom plumps to the floor legs closed, then open
“You can’t bring that beer on the bus,” so the hunched drunk flings it to shatter
Jetty, confetti bride and groom release two doves breaking east, moonward
The door stands open until I have to shut it against yon winter