September 2010
5 posts
Sun Burned
Sun burned,
I sail into the bay.
Behold the battleships,
bringing our slain boys back.
Still broken soldiers,
with sore bruises,
they search for a soft body,
and a sliver of bacon.
The black ship soot is on my soles,
and my bathing suit like burnt sienna
In the sunbeams
that bounce, like baby spiders
bungee jumping.
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Autobiography as Haiku
Today, my mother dragged me upstairs. She handed me a packet of papers, the cover decorated in a highlighter landscape of dolphins jumping over the sunset. Ten years ago, my second grade self had written: “What is Art? When I paint a picture, I flow with the picture as if the background of my picture is where I am. Painting makes me feel free and very relaxed. As when I am dancing, I am in...
6 tags
