marlene mountain
one-line haiku sequence
december 1979-may 1980


one-line haiku sequences
: one-nine


sequence : one

you cup my breasts i tablespoon you
     a late monarch    your fingers slowly find my folds
your kiss on my cloud mountain       moonrise
     mountain tip from mist my clitoris rises to your mouth
the maple just turning i fill my mouth with you
     your sawedoff thumb   deep     deeper       beyond my moon
new moon   you find the blood between us
     i rise from blood and paint myself in the moon
i am my reason for living your love in the falling leaves
     mountain           just the tip of me
as you leave i remain a mountain of folds

sequence : two

clothed-naked we begin passion already in our laughter
    our hands together we part over each other
as we touch i know myself in your closed eyes
    your voice disappears into a poem on my walls

sequence : three

in winter rain we kiss dry my suitcase closed
    car trouble the distance from you farther
the day ends a borrowed sleeping bag on a stained mattress
    a poem not yet formed festering
small bottle of gin in another town someone's ice cubes
    a party two states from home i just get high
morning news i switch to country music and think of sex
    busboy unaware of the yolk
no card in the motel lobby says it
    the key turned in: returning
a week of theater continues an off-size sunday flat
    first mountain: to hump or to be humped
is it you or the mountain i am wet in my jeans
    unpacked in the mountain fold alone

sequence : four

your hand on me you read about yourself in a poem
    we share a gin shoes touching
you harden march blows through the partly opened window
    one stick we float in and out of love
high giggling about giggling between orgasms
    i come to know your fingers
spring wind in the night my breasts reshaped
    morning we wash ourselves onto each other
after you've gone you reappear in the sound of rain

sequence : five (sono mama: things as they are)

i am here you there first night of spring
    the sun rose before i woke
ground uncovered asparagus appear when they appear
    nothing in the mail
the canvas ready swollen buds
    my painting surprises me
march a month not unlike my life
    night air drops again
one kind of poverty one kind of poem
    having bloomed the daffodil

sequence : six

the parting and the returning first leaves of the hepatica
    the bloom begins the touch of your eyes
in the darkness with you there is no darkness with you
    night i ride in clouds beneath the faded roof
together as we dry there is the listening to rain
    steam of morning coffee the lingering
after the long party we love as the wine allows
    your last breakfast: i catch a rainbow
deep within your breathing the leaving of tomorrow
    the silence left by your truck on the blacktop

sequence : seven (through the moon)

to and from: the tractor a neighbor's garden
    the moon comes full you fill me
late afternoon the hoer puts away the hoe
    the wait: the moon to darken red
on a stake a beet packet rattles in the wind
    your voice from a distant pay phone
phoebe phoebe phoebe phoebe the days you're gone
    quarter phase i touch my stomach
first two leaves
    rain: fifty fifty
alone in bed i write a poem alone
    in the white of the painting
dogwood only the emptiness in bloom
    you return and come
awakened by your touch awake to your touch
    wrinkled clothes in another room
a truck driver waves spring morning
    Y: we part
in your leaving there is yesterday and tomorrow
    new moon: ishtar and i redden together
before the ink is dry your lips
    beneath stars one nipple cold
you dowse the fire heavy dew stirring me
     facing the wooden wall receiving
already the quarter already the halving

sequence : eight

in the old turtle shell you give love in the evening
    thunderhead the unthinking of our passion
afternoon warmth the puddle swarming with tadpoles
    spring peepers you too are male
do you know: mozart's 'magic flute'
    to what depth do we play
even in the nibble of minnows there is fishing
    your hand under your shirt finds me
easier to let go knowing you're stuck on me
    last touch hand on the cold doorknob
the old shirt you gave me on the hanger you forgot
    i almost write nothing in my journal
one poem--half my life through this portable
    tonight i am mountain
unviewed the moon rises in one of her phases
    alone the nipplelessness of nipples
broad daylight bareassed insects mating in flight
    swifts foreplay the chimney
forest fire in the next county will i again be burned

sequence: nine

there is art there is beer on another mountain
    you across the long narrow state
route one in the mountains in the moon
    home again the bare mattress enough
there is art there is been on this mountain
    you across the long narrow state



sequence : one Cicada 4:1 1980; sequence : seven Cicada 4:3 1980; sequence : one and sequence : four EROTIC HAIKU, ed. Rod Willmot, Black Moss Press, 1983; all sequences Frogpond 4:1 1981 and THE HAIKU ANTHOLOGY, ed. Cor van den Heuvel, Simon & Schuster 1986; sequence : one
Kanora #32 1992 Columbia (Spanish)

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