- Gary Hunter
haiku - March 1, 2021
gold moon licks my eyes
she should raise up her webbed net
dreams have powdered wings
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See Allsnorers are braggarts they say to the sleepless I can even hum a tune while I do it
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the squeal of rubber rips the silence as a fast driver carves up the invisible night with an extended tortured note and skid marks when it stops I close my eyes wait for crickets to serenade the darkn
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walking out my front door I’m assaulted by the awful stink of thousands of mango blossoms but oh what a miracle when they morph into handfuls then armfuls of ambrosia as if a hangover could turn into
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