Friday, May 11th, 2012...9:42 pm
jack galmitz | seven haiku
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The word
is orange,
or sunset,
or murder,
it’s up to the mouth
The coroner showed
me the tag round my father’s toe:
my face faced the wall
In the courtyard
in the floodlights
a three-legged dog
I possess the map
to all the passageways
of hell in my head
Inside my head
you and you and you
redress a crowd
Disassembling
my parts I end up
all over the floor
I can feel the ghosts
they shape my posture
they speak with my voice
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3 Comments
May 11th, 2012 at 11:23 pm
Inside my head is just brilliant … Thanks, Don
May 11th, 2012 at 11:52 pm
Coming from you Don, it is high praise indeed to me.
May 28th, 2012 at 7:32 pm
The word
is orange,
or sunset,
or murder,
it’s up to the mouth
I’d like to publish this in Notes from the Gean (a quarterly of haiku, tanka, and related forms), out of Scotland. And any more you might have like it!
Michael McClintock
Tanka Editor
Notes from the Gean
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