SOME WESTERN HAIKUS

Jack Kerouac

* * *

Arms folded

to the moon,

Among the cows.

Birds singing

in the dark

—Rainy dawn.

Elephants munching

on grass—loving

Heads side by side.

Missing a kick

at the icebox door

It closed anyway.

Perfect moonlit night

marred

By family squabbles.

This July evening,

a large frog

On my door sill.

Catfish fighting for his life,

and winning,

Splashing us all.

Evening coming—

the office girl

Unloosing her scarf.

The low yellow

moon above the

Quiet lamplit house

Shall I say no?

—fly rubbing

its back legs

Unencouraging sign

—the fish store

Is closed.

Nodding against

the wall, the flowers

Sneeze

Straining at the padlock,

the garage doors

At noon

The taste

of rain

—Why kneel?

The moon,

the falling star

—Look elsewhere

The rain has filled

the birdbath

Again, almost

And the quiet cat

sitting by the post

Perceives the moon

Useless, useless,

the heavy rain

Driving into the sea.

Juju beads on the

Zen Manual:

My knees are cold.

Those birds sitting

out there on the fence—

They’re all going to die.

The bottoms of my shoes

are wet

from walking in the rain

In my medicine cabinet,

the winter fly

has died of old age.

November—how nasal

the drunken

Conductor’s call

The moon had

a cat’s mustache

For a second

A big fat flake

of snow

Falling all alone

The summer chair

rocking by itself

In the blizzard

—from BOOK OF HAIKU