***ALERT: PLEASE GO TO OUR NEW LOCATION AT http://theseptahaiku.tumblr.com***
every day for the month of january 2008, as part of the
artclash collective’s fun-a-day project, i wrote a haiku about a stranger i saw on the subway. i wanted it to capture the experiences i have each morning - sometimes poignant, sometimes silly, sometimes just irritating or confusing, but always brief, impressionistic, and distinct. we ignore the communion of shared space - convention is to ignore the people traveling with you and i feel i can learn so much from the people i’m near, even if we never share a word.
i’m sharing words. seventeen syllables at a time.
i’m going to see if i can keep this up for the year - maybe not every day, but close to it. thanks for stopping by, and try to pay attention in your own worlds.
May 22
a tourist with a
southern drawl asks, “does this thing
go any faster?”
May 21
“let me off,” she cries,
turns, announces, “i’m going…
to the HOSPITAL!”
May 20
“yo,” she says gruffly,
and offers the young mother
a place to sit down.
May 19
taking a new line
is like visiting a new
city. i get lost.
May 18
the man brings a full
picnic aboard, and leaves a
whole trash mound behind.
May 17
there’s no polite way
to tell her i see her weave,
so i hold my tongue.
May 16
two women, spaced by
forty years, hold a long talk
on an aloe plant.
May 15
no number of signs
will teach people to step down
to leave the trolley.
May 14
he changes seats like
musical chairs, no seatmate
good enough for him.
May 13
she rushes in front
of me to board, then takes her
time getting inside.
May 12
i have terrible
etiquette; i wrap my arm
around the hand bar.
May 11
i never knew how
to keep talking ‘til i heard
them discuss nothing.
May 10
“i’m getting off soon,”
she explains, and holds ground for
thirty city blocks.
May 09
his dirty look is
perfection. his space is more
valuable than ours.