Meat Counter

Here’s another one for the Professor:
Found myself at the meat counter. Dusty, dim, green-yellow puke linoleum, 
empty shelves.
I asked the woman standing next to me -- she was heavily sunglassed and wore a terry-cloth turban -- if they had any Operatic Peacock Parfait with Blueberry sauce.

Always the optimist.

regan lee

reworked june 2017

found poem haiku/senryu

in search of a look

i ate cottage cheese for seven days

the night the city screamed

regan lee
june 20015

A Soft Rain

haiku

Winter haiku

long gone

kids aren't stupid
and the L.A. sun cracking on the clown face was
no surprise

inside, in the cool dim kitchen
our moms in sherbet dresses drank and smoked and laughed
tumblers of jewel colors in their hands,
raised to the warm glass of the kitchen window

meanwhile,
outside, beneath the hard lime trees 
animals arose, twisted out of 
bright pinks and yellows
squeaky poodles and blue giraffes,
tinny music from the portable record player set on the
shaky tv table

faded diamonds, flat ruffles,
Dads long gone.

wrapping paper and rough ribbon on the
brown-green square of yard
bits of frosting stuck to fingers, shoes …

the moms leave the coppery kitchen, stumbling
just a little on the rocky dry grass
kids leave, Dads still long gone

later, cold chicken and spanish rice
in the coppery kitchen,
moms return to their jeweled tumblers 
and Dads
still long gone.



regan lee
march 2014
eugene oregon

i wrote about figs

i wrote about
figs
dates
curry and pomegranate
plums
coconut
limes

heat through the glass

the remains of sweet rice in blue
glazed bowls.

now
a cold fog thumps
unceasingly
while we wait.


regan lee
feb. 2014