welcome to the haikutimes

Issue #102 Arapahoe Peak, Indian Peaks Wilderness and Salida, Colorado, November 3, 2004

wouldn't you know it
the two twins that we bring home
are just hairless rats

liquid to solid
frozen water on tundra
pica peers from hole

paisley magma swirl
some poetry i construct
from geology

darkened sky reflects
turning away from the light,
october snowfall

paige in new down coat
appears to be keeping warm
the last time i checked

barely peeking
over high tundra incline
jagged toothpaste grin

what powers me
on my way up and down peak
last nights thai dinner

somewhat blustery
this mid-october snowstorm
i fasten ear flaps

plastic sandwich bag
soars like well-seasoned kite
from top of the peak

hiker behind us
plods steadily, easily
at home with himself

jagged sunny peaks
turn to jagged clouded peaks
only peaks remain

red berries over dry hills
A stocky 'S' on a promontory above town:
an investigative foray into
sleepy art community
with an S and a pedestal of graffiti,
snarling pug-bulldogs
objecting to our presence
racing the length of their yard
in scruffy manufactured-home front yards.

inquisitive visitors,
we travel to this mid-point
for a rendezvous with the parents,
ostensibly to share the burden
of bringing a second car
all the way up to boulder,
facilitating the trade-off
of a vehicle passing generations,
and providing the excuse
to hang out in a new spot.

the owner of the bungled jungle
in tousled white hair,
sunday morning coffee in hand,
explains that buying a few
mythical big-toothed rubber creations
just might support a claim of insanity
should we happen to kill someone -
or, better yet,
serve as a distraction from dirt,
since any hideous hog-warted head
glaring from a commanding position
in the living room
would surely snatch someone's attention
from the dust lying about.

this artist lives in a quiet cabin with his wife,
making crazy sculptures
up some ravine near the arkansas river -
rough and rural,
not at all like Ft. Collins,
and he likes it.

salida is a town
smaller in stature than aspen
insignificant militarily
compared with colorado springs
packed with galleries
like santa fe and taos,
tucked in between the penal institutions
of florence and buena vista
known by kayakers, artists
and baby-booming mountain bikers
as the banana belt of colorado

recalled in history mostly
through the railroad and
the amorous business instincts
of the laughing ladies,
who ran the front of the brothel
from the back of the restaurant

a gigantic steel hook
hangs near the back entrance
of the renovated steam plant,
a contrast to the sensitive works of art
now displayed inside -
japanese motif collage-paingings for $900;
chunky, solid wood art benches,
paintings of autumn leaves,
wood and metal sculptures
under a brilliant maple and cottonwood canopy
of real red and yellow leaves,
an auditorium for 200 people
lively with a fundraising talent and music show
culminating with a mock debate
between crude candidates' caricatures

nine river front lots for sale
but what would we do here?
mom pretends to buy every house
just for fun like she would do
when she was a little girl
remembering her own mother's search for a house.

hot tub parking lot
motel at the edge of town
soaking in cold wind

window mannequins
not your ordinary dolls
creatures with pink fur

solo/group kukai
jonathan machen