Beside me,
a mother & son
play Scrabble
while she explains
the minimum heat required
for spontaneous combustion

we wander through metaphors
of Sleeping Beauty’s thorns
and burning hearts
hung on the walls
like something trying
to be beautiful

a pilot
in a teacup
green leaves clinging
to the porcelain
curves, telling
no one’s future
but its own

thirst is a thing
we cannot escape
there is no blood
without water

one last sip,
sweeter than sin
before the lights
go out

– T.H.

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For your further enjoyment, the master himself, Jack Kerouac, reading “American Haiku”:

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2 Comments

Filed under National Poetry Month 2014, Videos & Other Media

2 Responses to

  1. Glad to have made the introduction! ;-)

  2. Shannon

    I’ve never heard or read Jack Kerouac before. I quite enjoyed meeting him, thank you. :-)