ONE SMALL BLOW AGAINST ENCROACHING TOTALITARIANISM

“For those of us on intimate terms with the habits of American power, who have long been kettled at the edges of society, tarrying with illusions of democratic inclusion is dangerous business.” — Rich Blint

Daily Haikus
from Dan Chelotti

 

Your daily haiku from McSweeney’s poet, Dan Chelotti, whose book, x is just out this month. We’re featuring a haiku-a-day as our way of celebrating National Poetry Month. Enjoy!

TUESDAY, APRIL 30.

Scrolling through pictures
The daiquiris of strangers
Taste better than mine

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MONDAY, APRIL 29.

O’Hara’s birthday—
In memory of my feelings:
A bus in the rain

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SUNDAY, APRIL 28.

Skyline of New York:
Everyone’s secret lover
Sleeping on her side

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SATURDAY, APRIL 27.

Drive next to this bus
Peter Pan’s wifi is free
And so is the rain

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FRIDAY, APRIL 26.

Plain afternoon light
Every cloud that has e’er been
In a glass of wine

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THURSDAY, APRIL 25.

Springfield bus station
Three sparrows among pigeons
You go on your nerve

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WEDNESDAY, APRIL 24.

The bus on Fifth Ave.
We are soon to arrive
Read the Four Quartets!

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TUESDAY, APRIL 23.

Man’s Search for Meaning
Counting to 2013
Using my fingers

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MONDAY, APRIL 22.

Slush pile sadness
A pause before recycling—
The eyes of a frog

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SUNDAY, APRIL 21.

Cemetery kiss
Blue jay light on a headstone
The world can begin

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SATURDAY, APRIL 20.

Parking lot sunset
Ashbery’s dictionary
A distant fountain

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FRIDAY, APRIL 19.

Outside of my life
Is a room in which I live
One chair bare lightbulb

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THURSDAY, APRIL 18.

I don’t want to eat
Poems are made of hunger
And firecrackers

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WEDNESDAY, APRIL 17.

A cloud in a room
500 hawks overhead
Facts: rumors of wolves

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TUESDAY, APRIL 16.

Snail marks on a rock
What I was supposed to do
Struck by what was done

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MONDAY, APRIL 15.

Black winter branches
The e’er folding distances
A bag of Funyons

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SUNDAY, APRIL 14.

On my grave near Yale:
The body of Dan Chelotti
Says Kiss her! Right now!

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SATURDAY, APRIL 13.

You do not think so,
America, but you fit
In this one haiku

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FRIDAY, APRIL 12.

Fiction writing friends
Meet me at Dickinson’s grave
You use too many

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THURSDAY, APRIL 11.

Black mariah moon
Mandelstam picks up a stone
Lists lists lists lists lists

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WEDNESDAY, APRIL 10.

James Tate in the woods
Petting someone’s lost donkey
A bear looking on

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TUESDAY, APRIL 9.

Queen Anne’s Lace orbits
Under high tension wires
My name is not mine

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MONDAY, APRIL 8.

Cold storm-lit basement
Outdated gaming console
Red suitcase silence

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SUNDAY, APRIL 7.

Bologna sandwich
Your machismo intrigues me
I will not fight you

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SATURDAY, APRIL 6.

Don’t worry, students
I will grade your papers soon
(The moon is a whale)

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FRIDAY, APRIL 5.

One sea cucumber
Seventeen sea cucumbers
Any difference?

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THURSDAY, APRIL 4.

Dogen flea market:
Eagle keychains are eagles
Mountains in their eyes

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WEDNESDAY, APRIL 3.

Used bookstore glances
The gathering distance mounts
The internet breeze

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TUESDAY, APRIL 2.

Pushkin in a dream:
Air conditioner repair?
You do not need this

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MONDAY, APRIL 1.

Standing in Boston
Smoking outside the bookfair
I long for Boston

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Sign up for the McSweeney’s Poetry Series today!