a light a burning haibun
a burning Haibun is a poetic form invented by Torrin L. Greathouse. In a burning haibun,
the poet writes a prose poem, that erases into a poem, that erases into a haiku.
when i met god i lied and kept going. when i met god i gave her five dollars. i said sorry that’s all i got,
n kept going. when god asked for my name i could barely hear myself. when god left i finished my
churro and my pizza and lit my last spliff. when god waved goodbye to me, i smiled back at her and
adjusted the box of stolen panties in my bag. when god watched me go, i had numbers on my mind.
this number for that day and that number for this day and that day for these numbers and these
numbers for those days and those days for some number. i don’t know enough to care. god laughed
and grabbed her lovers ass while i rushed off. god will i be rich? and god, if i am rich, will i be gracious
enough to not lie when you ask for a dollar? how many dollars will you ask for before i lie? how many
dollars will you ask for before i ask you for a dollar? how many dollars will i ask for before you lie?
god? god you’re not listening, are you? god, are you in love? god? god will the earth flood again? god?
god will babylon fall? god where will we go when the tower wrecks on shoreless seas? god? god? god?
do i have to choose, god, between love and a dollar? that is the only choice, isn’t it? to love a day. oh
god. to love a day enough to not ask for another. oh god. the sun, god, the sun keeps rising. god, i
promised my mother’s dog i would introduce her to another dawn. you understand, don’t you? why
did i lie? god what am i supposed to do? give every dollar to every voice that asks? god knows my
pocket would be lighter. god, have i known suffering? god, this that i have known- is it suffering?
god? god could you show me something? we’ll make a trade. i’ll show you every use for a dollar and
you’ll show me every use for a lighter.
when i met god i lied i gave her five dollars said sorry
and kept going.
my last spliff waved goodbye to
these numbers don’t care enough to lie.
how many dollars will you ask for
when the tower wrecks choose
between love and a dollar love a day
ask for another.
I promised my mother dawn
would be lighter. god?
could you trade me for a lighter?
god lied said sorry
kept my spliff for the floodand promised a light