Haibun Today

A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Editor
Volume 5, Number 4, December 2011

Eduardo N. del Valle
Newark, New Jersey, USA



Even up here, though not as high as some would think or others might even like, but high enough above them, others have said, the inescapable beat of echoing kevlar and brown skin heads, the beat from below risen, in my head, throbbing over pelting raindrops, through the spiking limestone, windowsills, scuffing glass panes. The meeting goes on, up here, the One in His sella curulis presiding; the rest rowing in arcs to His right and left, all hands on the galley-shaped slab. "K., make it go away." "OK." "M., be sure it gets done." "Will do." "I don't care what it takes." "Got it." "So long as?" "The take is theirs." It is about now: an unsolicited thought: forty-one, his "eyes full of hate"—as I join post with the gargoyles who gaze upon uptown from the oversailing fasciae, eternally: The anemic steel spires, value engineered by the latter-day greats, blinking bleached strobes whimpering in the mist, the horizon, smoking,

leaden leaves

ay, a lesser number preceding the larger is always subtracted from the latter: when in Rome . . .

on tents


Current Contents about archives resources search submissions current