Short, Fast, and Deadly

 
Short, Fast, and Deadly
i27
"For The Love of God,/No Haiku (The Bound to Hap/pen Haiku Issue)"
Edited by Joseph A. W. Quintela
13 June 2010

Featuring:
Danielle Blasko
Greta Bolger
Jennifer Hollie Bowles
Thomas Cochran
Patricia La Barbera
Dennis Mahagin
Stella Pierides
Parker Tettleton
James Tolan
John Tustin
Robert Vaughan
Stephen R. Williams

Copyright © 2010 by Individual Authors
All Rights Reserved

What the Frog Said before His Leap

A warning to all
who tackle the seventeen-
woe will follow woe.

by Thomas Cochran of West Fork

Branch Is Turning Green

Branch is turning green
Banker contemplates a new
BMW

by Patricia La Barbera of Marathon

The Collector

He collects and disseminates information about his acquaintances; he feeds on it and walks taller whenever he has a solid morsel of gossip to spit out. A full story makes him happy. This is the reason I always feed him short, thought-provoking bits; to vex his mind. And he knows it. Yesterday, when I bumped into him at the local garden centre, he begged: "For the love of God, no Haiku!" but I had no mercy.

by Stella Pierides of London and Munich

Pressed Up Against You

Pressed up against you
Like child’s ear to radio
Anticipating

by John Tustin of Flushing

I am candle wax

I light myself on fire, just
so you'll blow me out
 
by Jennifer Hollie Bowles of Knoxville

Long Gone Man with Unforgettably Long Fingers

finds me on Facebook,
crazy lust still ripe, probing
for juicy; my fruit. 
 
by Greta Bolger of Benzonia

Todo, Ampersand & Yr Lil' Blow-Up Doll 2

B r e a k f a s t @ Onan's:
Climax rictus; toaster chrome.
My Eggo, lets go.
 
by Dennis Mahagin of Seattle

Against helium and wind, know to lose your grip; cling to what you can.

Some fine floating child without feathers or sweet sigh but hope all the same. The thing we loosen from our hands to believe what we will in the end. Miracles do not cease--the mandolin, the summer peach bloom into song. The old roads, they lead to what remains, the ragged beauty of our meat. Child, loose your grip from that thin string and lick seamed hands, taste the life to come.

 
by James Tolan of Brooklyn

Craft

Haiku’s limited,
extremely minimalist
pin-point pared-down prose

by Robert Vaughan of River Hill

Upon Waking From A Nap

one small girl tells one
small girl there’s a cold and dead
body in the room

by Danielle Blasko of Surfside Beach

The Hungry

A sold out soul and
Nothing to eat at all but
A bit of haiku
 
by Stephen R. Williams of Tikrit

Etc.

Of course. And. Between. After all. This. Remember. How. But. I never.
 
by Parker Tettleton of Woodstock