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From across the room,
the boy’s dragonfly tattoo
trembles as he leaves.

Just found a poem of Susan Mitchell’s online: “Bus Trip” — makes me question my efforts to over-embellish, over-explain all details of a story… She creates intentional moments which lapse reality, resulting in creative, surreal notions which linger in the verse—every image does not need definition, every action of the persona does not need clarification.

And she is not afraid to confuse a word’s function in a sentence. What looks like a verb or an adjective will emerge as a noun:

flying > “She carried her flying…”

And remember what M. told you—retractions can work in a poem. Present the scene and take it back. State that the text is all a fabrication, a lie, a myth.

Are haiku disposable poems? Does the average reader glance across them only once, determine a secondary theme, acknowledge the imagery, then toss them aside?

My daily exercises do not move beyond the planner, the web log entries … should I try to publish them by themselves or incorporate them into something larger? Can they be considered as more than just exercises for that matter? There is a realm of thought that haiku are cliché and over-commercialized. Hard to publish such verses in “notable” literary magazines— until after one’s name has been established.

Theme of aimless meandering… how to utilize... and still have a point, the metaphor should be obvious.

Ironic. I write down the word “tributaries” perhaps for the first time—and now moments later, I read an anonymous poem which uses the word. See “Phoebus was gone, all gone—.”

Irritation swells
over, sitting on my chest—
tossing taunts at me.

On the branches’ tip,
without leaves, isolated,
a gardenia blooms.

Another moment
as typical as before:
haiku shift as mist.

In the back garden.
Behind rows of cannas.
Remains of a wing.


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