stoplight haiku

it’s all about lust.
forget about want and need –
it’s all about lust.

tobacco outlet;
beastie boys and bloody nose;
radio mishap.

brooding Wal Mart trucks
before me and beside me.
rain on the windshield.

everything is cheap now
everything except money
and time and stillness.

everyone is good
looking in a secret way-
not everyone looks

adopt a highway
by the movie theater;
sigh of a city

a spare fog, and men
in hard hats at a bus stop.
a church, a sign, sun.

the wind blows two ways
on a river; its fingers
hail the brazen leaves

slowly noticing
music of a train in the
street behind the bank

the tiny giant
past: no other thing can be
so far and close at once

blue heaps of mountain
in the distant sky; down here,
steam from the pavement.

if Starbucks is god
who then will be the devil?
some worlds have neither

map

on the side of a truck,
a cartoon recycling bin
with a smiling face

like birds made of sleep,
my thoughts, startled, fly away-
chased by memories.

craven and awake,
climbing parkway on a bike;
sometimes cars are girls.