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Issue #13, North Boulder Open Space, December 9, 2001. Haiku: Patrick Lynn, Jonathan Machen, Sara Benson, Sanjay Rajan, Krista Morien, Cynthia Kolanowski. Photos and layout: Jonathan Machen.
struck by the contrast
between the golden grasses
and the steel grey sky
bouncing up and down
as i walk the rutted road
im out of control
its june at the zoo
the prarie dog turns his thoughts
to love and you sigh
my laugh startles the dog
whose rip-your-throat-out bark
startles me
relaxing - my haiku book
slips from my fingers and
falls to the ground
the only green
i see on this winter trail
is some horse shit
crowding the yucca
this housing development
on the next mesa
feeling the pressure
of a thousand new houses
yucca burst to seed
tootsie roll
call me says the paper
maybe i should
after pottery
deadlines, captivated by
the mud swallows homes
echoes of elsewhere -
this open space. climbing up,
i forget my name
there must be water,
somewhere. and among the trees,
your winter coat gone.
sitting on the rock
continuing my arrival
onto this planet
the sun comes out and
lights up the remaining leaves
hanging motionless
yearning for the sun
on the other side of the
barbed wire fence
gathered in my palm
yucca seeds like charred chiclets
for skeleton kids
holiday season
on the trails
everythings pale
december yucca
offering stacks of black seeds
from wooden flowers
caught in between
the sinking sun and this gold hill
my indecisive shadow
struck by the contrast
between the golden grasses
and the steel grey sky
bouncing up and down
as i walk the rutted road
im out of control
its june at the zoo
the prarie dog turns his thoughts
to love and you sigh
my laugh startles the dog
whose rip-your-throat-out bark
startles me
relaxing - my haiku book
slips from my fingers and
falls to the ground
the only green
i see on this winter trail
is some horse shit
crowding the yucca
this housing development
on the next mesa
feeling the pressure
of a thousand new houses
yucca burst to seed
tootsie roll
call me says the paper
maybe i should
after pottery
deadlines, captivated by
the mud swallows homes
echoes of elsewhere -
this open space. climbing up,
i forget my name
there must be water,
somewhere. and among the trees,
your winter coat gone.
sitting on the rock
continuing my arrival
onto this planet
the sun comes out and
lights up the remaining leaves
hanging motionless
yearning for the sun
on the other side of the
barbed wire fence
gathered in my palm
yucca seeds like charred chiclets
for skeleton kids
holiday season
on the trails
everythings pale
december yucca
offering stacks of black seeds
from wooden flowers
caught in between
the sinking sun and this gold hill
my indecisive shadow
solo/group kukai
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen
drawing/writing/photography
jonathan machen