Just once,
before I die,
I’d like to hear a choir
sing “Hark, the herald
angels sing,” and change
the exclusionary language.

“Pleased as man with man to dwell”
(or “man with us,” as some sing it)
could reasonably be
“Pleased as punch with us to dwell.”

Copyright 2013, Kenneth Kauffman

My mind says “haiku”
And then it gives me nothing
But really, something

copyright 2013, Kenneth Kauffman. That will probably accomplish nothing.

Baseball, the Pirates, McCutchen and triples
Georges Pierre Seurat and his multiple stipples
Musical musings and Menno hymn-sings
These are a few of my favorite things

Onion and Oatmeal and new Google doodles
YouTube and Facebook and pictures of poodles
Video footage of staged happenings
These are a few of my favorite things

Coltrane, Miles Davis, the ECM label
Playing piano when I feel I’m able
Helping a student find all Wagner Rings
These are a few of my favorite things

When the job sucks
When the car pings
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don’t feel so bad

Not only the blossoms,
as seen in this view from July
but also the things that I guess are seeds,
which start to appear in early August.
They are very alien in appearance.
The blossoms stick to everything, especially
shoes, and follow me everywhere.
I’ve had five weeks of stepping in tree

Reich’s inspiration:
The quadraphonic phasing
Of the cicadas

Still awake at 1:45AM
Between now and then
I will perhaps sleep,
then battle the demon
that lives in my hot water heater,
shave 4 days of thatch from my face
(or is it 5 days?), pack
an efficient yet healthy lunch,
and then brave those insane
NJ drivers for 30+ minutes.
Or I could just stay up all night
and have a nice fruit smoothie
to start my day; the sleep
would certainly lead to jousting
with the alarm clock,
resulting in panicked rushing about.
In olden times I could pull
an all-nighter, but tonight
I’ll try to sleep. Maybe one of you
will call me at 7AM (no, 7:15, maybe
7:30, or even 45) and roust me.

I8’M NO9T5 DO9I8NG TH6I8S O9N Pu7r4pO9SE3, I8T5’S MY6 ME3SSE3D U7P ke3y6bo9ar4d. Du7de3r4 i8s t5o9o9 lazy6 t5o9 bo9e3t5h6e3r4 pU7T5T5I8NG I8N ALL T5H6E3SE3 E3XT5R4A CH6AR4ACT5E3R4S. I8t5’s li8ke3 t5h6at5 t5h6i8ng t5h6at5 go9e3s ar4e3o9u7nd o9ccasi8o9nally6 sh6o9w2i8ng h6o9w2 o9u7r4 br4ai8ns can st5i8ll i8nt5e3r4pR4E3T5 ME3SSE3D U7P t5e3xt5. Hmmm, so9me3t5i8me3s w2h6e3n I8 T5Y6Pe3 t5h6e3 le3t5t5e3r4 “p” i8t5 t5h6i8nks I8 ALSO9 H6I8T5 CAPs lo9ck. And t5h6e3 o9nly6 w2ay6 t5o9 t5y6pE3 A CAPi8t5al “i8” i8s t5o9 pR4E3SS CAPs lo9ck. W@h6at5 a me3ss. I8 BE3T5 T5H6E3 NSA T5H6I8NKS I8’M SE3NDI8NG CO9DE3D ME3SSAGE3S. HE3LLO9, SE3CR4E3T5 AGE3NT5 MAN, W2O9MAN, O9R4 MACH6I8NE3.

That which was today expected
Did not happen, though erected
Barricades and fences had been breached upon the shore,
On that Miserables shore, shown to Thee for nevermore

Still my heart went pitter-patter,
Signing forms that do not matter,
Having waited for this time since oh-so-many months before

And now I have to wait another week. It’s SO unpoetic.

Holidays are not the right
days to ask me how I’m feeling.

if your holidays aren’t
tinged with melancholy
you’re hiding something
from yourself.

I hereby declare
illustrations, comics, paintings,
strictly forbidden to
take any other action against me
on the basis of this

like this, or if you prefer,
you may copy and paste
my haiku
and publish them in
“Facebook Poetry: An Anthology”

Concerning Haiku,
Keep vigilant always,
Poetic impulse.