after rain
worms in the sun
reaching
the flat of a leaf
gathers dust
lake swim
my black ass touching
the moon
in this bowl of soup
my ancestors
homeless
this big Georgia sun
hits different
when worshiping nimbus!
bow first, then dance!
cicada
summer dreams
of you too
sick of waiting
i ask the river
belly
first i learn to breathe
again
hibiscus reddening
my father's silence
slow dusk
in the dragonfly's shadow
the dragon
everything aches:
even mountains
spring
arriving early . . .
for therapy
cold spell ending
the mosquitos fall
storming . . .
the friends I thought
would last
five brave sparrows
gathered at my feet
holding on
to the wrong things,
drifting clouds
hitting the squirrel
my squirrel mind stops
new leaves
between the gaps,
old gods
what she says, what I hear
the business of crows
dawn
what is a haiku?
yawn
weeds, I confront
the fascist inside
a cop car
drives into the crowd,
election year
cooler, a few birds
fleeing the state
battleworn,
the river swallows
the stone
leaving for work, I pack
my white voice
gunshots:
the sky splattered
with clouds
autumn in a world
devils go by name
in a field
once filled with wheat:
fresh corpses
sippin black tea
no sugar moon
dysregulated:
the pines uncaring
kind of care
if I could do it all over
bare feet in the grass
pre-dawn
one bird devouring
deities
my skin, darker
in the officer's gaze
the tūī
eating blossoms,
like a hokku
barely getting by
I chew on a poem
————————
Laurence Stacey
Dick Whyte