Lines on Blue Willow

After the summer heat, the flames
scorch filaments from the surface,
stripping full figures down
to skeletons, brittle forms rising
from a charred desert.

We blame the wind
that winds its way
through canyons and
into the heart of a barren valley.

Among the ash,
one art.

A translucent vase
remains
resistant
to thermal shock.

Haiku for H**ko

surf couch, stalk girlfriend

buy some teeth, grow some balls you

washed up punk rock bitch