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Sixteen haiku by Andrew Hamlin
- Hummingbird
- tries to perch on
- two crossed branches
- ***
- Traffic lights
- play catch with yellow
- one block apart
- ***
- Tap away
- at her eyes long enough///
- hit winter streams
- ***
- Arm unswept,
- stillborn shout...
- crows stick to the fence
- ***
- Deserted dock...
- angleworms inch their way
- past the fishooks
- ***
- I wait
- for those goddamned moths to die...
- or breed
- ***
- Killing the moth,
- what exactly should I feel...
- four days
- ***
- Juliet,
- refuses Romeo...
- balcony blackout
- ***
- Electric busker...
- his classic rock smudged.
- drivetime drone
- ***
- Bricklayer,
- last row of the walk...
- spring heat
- ***
- Moth,
- clung to the lamp for warmth
- (I still kill it)
- ***
- Blown kiss,
- how many years ago...
- wind grows old
- ***
- White pigeon,
- queuing to board its train...
- Westlake Station
- ***
- Sunset,
- a dog’s lost its master...
- nothing moves
- ***
- Orange Gatorade—
- up, the bottle, then down...
- a tattooed palm
- ***
- The first rain
- without me, shall bear
- that same color
Andrew Hamlin
Andrew Hamlin likes to photograph shoes and write about dog shit. He was born and raised in Seattle, where he resides today. He attended the Evergreen State College, where he wrote and edited arts coverage for the Cooper Point Journal. He is the film critic for the Northwest Asian Weekly, and he’s published arts coverage and criticism in the San Diego Reader, Village Voice, Seattle Times, Seattle Weekly, Goldmine, and other publications. He misses Helen Wiggin. Hamlin’s website is www.andrewhamlin.org.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Sixteen haiku by Andrew Hamlin
Sixteen haiku by Andrew Hamlin
- Hummingbird
- tries to perch on
- two crossed branches
- ***
- Traffic lights
- play catch with yellow
- one block apart
- ***
- Tap away
- at her eyes long enough///
- hit winter streams
- ***
- Arm unswept,
- stillborn shout...
- crows stick to the fence
- ***
- Deserted dock...
- angleworms inch their way
- past the fishooks
- ***
- I wait
- for those goddamned moths to die...
- or breed
- ***
- Killing the moth,
- what exactly should I feel...
- four days
- ***
- Juliet,
- refuses Romeo...
- balcony blackout
- ***
- Electric busker...
- his classic rock smudged.
- drivetime drone
- ***
- Bricklayer,
- last row of the walk...
- spring heat
- ***
- Moth,
- clung to the lamp for warmth
- (I still kill it)
- ***
- Blown kiss,
- how many years ago...
- wind grows old
- ***
- White pigeon,
- queuing to board its train...
- Westlake Station
- ***
- Sunset,
- a dog’s lost its master...
- nothing moves
- ***
- Orange Gatorade—
- up, the bottle, then down...
- a tattooed palm
- ***
- The first rain
- without me, shall bear
- that same color
Andrew Hamlin
Andrew Hamlin likes to photograph shoes and write about dog shit. He was born and raised in Seattle, where he resides today. He attended the Evergreen State College, where he wrote and edited arts coverage for the Cooper Point Journal. He is the film critic for the Northwest Asian Weekly, and he’s published arts coverage and criticism in the San Diego Reader, Village Voice, Seattle Times, Seattle Weekly, Goldmine, and other publications. He misses Helen Wiggin. Hamlin’s website is www.andrewhamlin.org.
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