discouraged

sometimes I wonder
why even put yourself out
there. this is too hard.

Experience

It doesn't all need
to go online. Some stays in
my head, my journal.

luck: not dead, again, still

Took time to savor
the view from the Fremont Bridge,
tow truck on its way.

take that, tumor!

I'm going to live
forever. Or--well--at least
forever enough.

Athletics

Sunday soccer with
Aaron, age 9, and Sean, age
5--my favorite sport

overwhelmed, in a good way

novels are big. how
do you keep all this stuff in
your head as you write?

home ownership

still need to put up
towel rack, paint mantel, hang
great-grandpa's painting...

end of summer

appreciating
quiet coffee shop times, now
that school starts again

family visit

Good times with mom--thanks
to Cyril & Laurel for
social assistance

Cyril #1

Saw Drag Me to Hell
with Cyril last night--Cyril
lives in Portland now!

these days

new friends, old friends, ex-
friends. old acquaintances now
new friends. transition.

haiku with footnote

small claims court is a
pain in my ass, but he* can't
do this to people

*former landlord

my Saturday morning

walked to Kenton, then
to Killingsworth: coffee, please
WRITE, library, home

molly and I agree...

gray foggy days are
some of the best days for walks
on ocean beaches

whether the weather

happy to see rain
though timing often tends to
be unfortunate

not doing the pacific northwest justice here!

another short road
trip through green forests! outdoors
summer time with friends.

odd legacies

sorted the Algers
into three piles: me, Em, sell.
relieved, sad, nervous.

my last landlord EVER--thank god

crazy ex-housemate
withholds deposit! angry
emails drafted, held.

stuff falling from trees

on a walk, kicking
walnuts/other kickable
objects is good times.

gardens are magic

I'll just walk by and
eat some spinach out of the
raised bed in my yard

organization

sorting papers like
crazy--shit I should've re-
cycled in NY

repairs

five thirty a.m.
awake, lots to do--replaced
broken toilet seat

wilderness

I wish opal creek
were closer, but closer it
would be less remote

still almost august

indoors in the air
conditioning, it looks like
a perfect day

sunday morning, almost august

already sticky.
hot. otherwise good, though up
too early again.

Destinations

at red e: time for
noveling. favorite new
coffee shop, nice walk.

Trying to Write a Novel

Sometimes characters
go off about random stuff,
not main ideas.

Today

Coffee with Laurel
post-oncologist: tumor
hasn't shrunk, nor grown

Summer

I want to go for
a walk, it's sunny--but it's
so hot--ugh. too hot.

birthday haiku #2: iced latte vs. iced americano

extracto owner/
barista will not spoil my
day with pettiness

birthday haiku #1

today is really
hot but I am 33
& mellow, at rest.

farm market dinner with rachel

those artichokes! four
dollars but worth it. swiss chard
all colors, mmmmmushrooms

remembering

but these poems were
also ridiculousness
compressed into form

remembered

these poems started as
a way to deal with grief, loss.
different worries now.

Minnesota

"Home" in July means
grief physically closer.
Portland feels safer.

Mass Transit

Took the MAX and thought
of Pauline and Sophia
riding everywhere

Eureka

Eureka vintage
with bright red canister &
cloth bag: now attachments!

Awake

Before seven is
early to get up during
vacation. SLEEP, E!

Worked on the novel some...

Writing for my own
self makes me feel like a more
whole person again

Juggling

It's hard to novel
again after two weeks of
bullshit ed papers.

Old Furniture

Grandma's table lies
prone, & my new house looks less
occupied, less mine.

Hosting Guests

Grandma's table tipped
today. Landed on Seamus.
Legs need longer screws.

Historical Note from Anne

I remember well,
Tiny zines you sent to me.
A worthy project.

#2: Untitled

Am I going to
start thinking in the rhythm
of haiku again?

Haiku #1: Untitled Explanation

Inspired by others'
use of this space, I embark
on haiku project

Explanation

In the late 1990's, I made a series of five very small zines titled "Three Line Poems." They were typed on manual typewriters, and consisted of one three line poem per page, written by me and my friends. They were so much fun to make, and so much work, being so small.

I really miss zines. But I blog now, apparently. Mainly at formerlyknownasazine.blogspot.com. Maybe there'll be another zine one of these days, but I tried a couple years ago and the result was not satisfactory.

I spend too much time on Facebook, and on your profile page on Facebook there is a little box under your photo. When empty, the box says, "Something about me." The user can put any text inside the box that she wants. People use it for quotes, pithy statements, networking information, links, updates about their professional work, and probably other stuff too. Or they don't use it. I have a friend who's been using this space in a cool way, and she inspired me to come up with some better way to use mine. So I'm embarking on Haiku Project #2: Something About Myself. The haiku themselves probably won't be about myself, at least I hope not entirely, but since that's what the box is meant for, that's what I'm calling the project. The project only actually gets a name because I started this blog to keep a log of the haiku. I make no claims as to the quality or value of the haiku; that is not why they merit a blog of their own. I'm just doing it because I document.

Submissions of haiku will be considered for publication.