Sunday, March 25, 2007


a red grape
falls inside her décolleté


Madison Square Park rain---
a couple
don't even notice


I pet a cat
for a long time---
but no haiku


crescent moon
at my window---
I refill his glass


Spring showers---
a shut off sprinkler
spins in the wind


a dead sparrow
in the church yard---
early Spring


morning rush---
second day of Spring
and still no miniskirts


early morning---
not much left of last night
Black Forest cake


Spring solstice---
a birthday balloon
stuck in a leafless tree


waiting for Spring
to start---
I draw in charcoal


bright day---too many men
in sunglasses
stare at me


morning rush---
she steps on my toes
with her snow rubber boots


overcast day
dirty snow on the ground---
I close my gray curtains


Madison Square Park---
a pigeon shits on the snow
late March bright day

Sunday, March 18, 2007


snow on the ground---
the moon
walks on the water


late March sun shines
on more snow---
being blinded by hate


at a pub---I drink
Guinness and leave
the green beer for amateurs


Saint Patrick Day---
the weather
has an Irish temper


a snow storm---
I spill all the milk
I got


a cat drinks
from a dripping faucet---
predawn silence


Spring cleaning---
an old picture
of me in a swim suit


rubbing her callouses
the smell of pine---
almost Spring


for these colors to bloom
in my back yard


a hawk flies high---
traffic crawls
on the highway


foggy day---
I visit
the Turkish baths


a fly enters through
the kitchen window---
cooking cabbage


warm March day---
in the produce section
she smiles at me


morning rush---
at the end of the tunnel

Sunday, March 11, 2007


brunch at the pier---
eating seaweed
while watching seaweed


the clocks sprang
forward early---
while Spring still slumbers


a silent movie---
the audience
keeps on talking


the Ides of March---
a cat has passed
nine dogs


Friday afternoon---
it's too dark to find
where's the bathroom


a yellow frisbee
on a park bench---
sunny mid March


March sunset---
there is salt
in my sangria


new cover of soft snow---
an angora cat


March snow storm---
a young man
takes off his shirt


stormy morning---
some one silenced
her wind chimes


a seagull quacks
then quacks---
frigid day


morning rush---
a twin in a
crowded subway


cold wind---
her voice howls
from the other direction


blue sky---
a sparrow sees
its self in the puddle

Sunday, March 04, 2007


early March---
new graffiti
shaped like a tulip


Vietnamese noodle soup---
I look for quail eggs
Spring nears


Madison Square Park---
the snow all gone
a couple kiss at night


eating raw carrots
with chicken breast---
pass the saliva please


end of the month---
she wants to go
to her mother's for dinner


wind driven rain---
a turtle


all the snow melted---
she wears her
angora sweater


late night
the brass starts to jam---
full moon


my neighbor
paints the daffodils


warmer days---
the buds on trees
stay mum


overcast day---
she cooks


on a fire hydrant
I tie my shoes---behind me
a dog waits its turn


the waitress brings
grits with my eggs---
slush on the ground


she speaks English
with a Provence accent---
I order a glass of rosé