Haiga Archive

into the backyard
heat,
rain,
lunch

these types of women

try to make you think they are the same as all the others but the main difference is that they go to bed with their makeup on and never dry their eyes.they keep guns in the linen closet and wonder why everything is the color of mercury. she will get into your head with those loose curls and a two-foot crowbar, and the mascara lines on the pillow are the webs children make with red yarn. like clapping games and rhymes and secret handshakes. she is part of something like that, except bigger.

shallow stream
a painted turtle
scrabbles over sand

darkness visible a firefly burns itself out

her hands become
her lips become
medicine

Come out, come crawling out—
underneath the silkworm hut
the voice of a toad.

They make me recall
a lady’s powder puff—
these saffron blossoms.