THE BRUSSELS SPROUT HAIKU OF JOHN J. DUNPHY
I bet many of you thought that this would be a collection of haiku about that vegetable. FYI: Brussels Sprout was a haiku magazine back in the day — and a damn fine magazine at that. It ranked alongside Modern Haiku and Frogpond as one of the United States’ most respected haiku journals. Brussels Sprout was founded in 1984 by Alexis Rotella and taken over in 1988 by Francine Porad, who edited the journal until its demise in 1995.
Here are the poems I had published in Brussels Sprout over the years.
child with Down’s Syndrome
asks why none of her dolls’ faces
resemble her own
5:2
— — — — — — — — — — —
child leafing through
his father’s ‘Nam scrapbook
asks him if we won
6:1
— — — — — — — — — — — -
fifty staring eyes
the hunter sips brandy
in his trophy room
6:2
— — — — — —
removing her shoes
she grounds herself
leafless tree
***
sunrise
she anoints her infant
with earth and water
6:3
— — — — — -
the word ‘bitterness’
scrawled on paper and buried
with a tulip bulb
***
gin-dampened finger
draws a bird in flight
on the bar
7:1
— — — — — — — — —
six months pregnant
she walks through the orchard
touching each tree
***
in a meadow
she dances in the rain
second baptism
7:2
— — — — — — — — — — — -
on her wall
where once a crucifix hung
a sheaf of oats
***
its second blooding
child cuts his finger
on an arrowhead
7:3
— — — — — — — — — — — —
ant
on a tree stump
scurrying across decades
8:1
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
seated on the floor
my child who never smiles
rocking
***
canary
singing within
its covered cage
8:2
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — -
the clown’s smile
on a tissue
in the wastebasket
***
her suicide note
she checks the dictionary
for correct spelling
8:3
— — — — — — — — — — — — -
moving day
the heaviest boxes filled with
her dieting books
***
church ruins
wildflowers scenting
the sanctuary
9:1
— — — — — — — — — — — — -
ruined fort
a vine climbing
its flagpole
***
the haiku we wrote
in yesterday’s snow
now seeping into the earth
9:2
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
school play
mother silently mouths
each of her child’s lines
9:3
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — -
his first stickshift
car and driver
both groaning
***
porn film theater
graphic sex
five seats to my right
10:1
— — — — — -
after her performance
the stripper’s sunburn
still peeling
***
December morning
faith healer puts his hands on
the radiator
10:2
— — — — — — — — — — — —
Georgia courthouse lawn
two rusted cannons
pointed North
10:3
— — — — — — — — — — — —
closed carnival
only fireflies
still flashing
***
tee ceremony
golfer shimmies and sways
before taking his swing
11:1
— — — — — — — — — — — — —
the psychoanalyist
still nodding yes
in his sleep
***
my clothes
so seedy
after a woodland hike
11:2
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — -
watersnake
gliding across
the full moon
11:3
— — — — — — — — — — — -
prison exercise yard
five lifers cluster around
a wild crocus
12:1
— — — — — — — — — — — — — -
women’s self-defense class
another new student
with blackened eyes
12:2
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — -
names coming out of weeds
we wander through
an old cemetery
***
prison gym
an inmate furious peddling
on the stationary bicycle
***
our child’s ‘wow’
still echoing
through the museum
12:3
John J. Dunphy’s poetry collections include Stellar Possibilities, Zen Koanhead, pagan rites, Old Soldiers Fading Away, Dark Nebulae, Bullet Cluster and Touching Each Tree.