March 2020

I plan to write at least one haiku each day that people in the DC metropolitan area are supposed to spend socially distanced.

30 March


bulbous bud, still not
Bulbasaur, and hopefully
not a daffodil


three Chipotle chips 
in one. Not grilled cheese Jesus;
more miraculous

29 March 2020

conical, folded
ombré mushrooms rise between
assorted green plants

28 March 2020

pointillism: paint dots blend
to become image


in a pandemic
small business Saturday is
every Saturday

25 March 2020

brushing, stippling paint
into rocks, water, birds, and
happy little trees

24 March 2020

Georgia O’Keefe:
painter, lover of: desert
life, death; vaginas

23 March 2020


pear blossoms, under
appreciated compared
to cherry, still nice


rain rips white cherry
blossom petals from branches,
decorating grass

22 March 2020

Droid, sort of
Nemean lion, sort of

Nemean lion
buried under Android brand
sort of pointillist?

21 March 2020

passed over a table
pie, hopefully served without

20 March 2020


Second hyacinth
Blossoming while distancing
From other flowers


just the tip

Bulbasaur? alas,
it’s just a growing tulip
not ready to bloom

19 March 2020

nutrition data,
comma delineated,
proves legume greatness

18 March 2020


going offline soon
American FactFinder
(rest in peace, I guess?)


made on Monday night
chocolate chip cookies are
quite full of gluten

17 March 2020

socially distanced
winding yarn into pom-poms
and… writing haiku

15 March 2020

Teeth gripping eggs, hope
New York will prevail, like the
Egg McMuffin rat

7 March 2020

dead leaves decompose
on too-warm earth over Great
Falls, under cute dogs

Older haiku (2014–2016)

Here are some haiku I composed at work, back when I used to work in an office.

14 November 2016

strange atmosphere: feet,
pants-clad legs feel equal warmth
(as if both wear tights)

1 July 2016

fleeing steps, mantraps
sweating to the biergarten
reglazing the floor

4 June 2015

oh no, wendigo!
urging me to take a nap
slurping my life force

13 February 2015

flailing whips from wolves
io, Lupercalia!
holy festal flesh

4 December 2014

chapped chafing skin
falling off like dry snowflakes
thrilling bleeding hands

3 December 2014


sweater over eyes
warm fingers on pulsing lids
nap like a fetus


pushing rolling waves
hidden below oiled sheets
goodnight, water bed!

7 November 2014

knitting with your blood
sweaters for your future young
cozy uterus

22 October 2014

o! a field of meat!
piggies ready for slaughter
my future jamón

19 September 2014

dying chlorophyll
our app returns, brought upon
autumnal breezes

13 August 2014

“ca-caw!” the birds speak
beating wings graze Hamilton
and then flap away

22 July 2014


summer sweat in skirts,
down to absorbent chair foam
in burlap-rough cloth

1 May 2014

“the man”

the man in the wall
watching as you wave to him
“come inside, young man”