Haiku

The skies open up
over Los Angeles; which
state to dream of now?

Seabirds flying to
the L.A. River, shitting
on the 710

Red dog leaps in air,
grabs the Frisbee and keeps it--
never her best game

What are you barking
at, dog--how can we help you
if you won't tell us?

Cigar smoke sifted
by a single shaft of late
afternoon sunlight

Callow and vicious
youth, doubtless either dead or
in prison by now

Is this the middle
is it the end or are we
at the beginning?

Blue sky, chill air but
pleasant; yesterday never
happened, it would seem

Loneliness yearns for
recognition, fame dreams of
anonymity

Rotten fruit drops from
the tree, pleasing the bugs though
not the homeowner

Pinecones on concrete
sprinklers in a rainstorm
pleas made to Heaven