By Robert Beveridge
I
the wind tells stories
of a world much different
seven months ago
II
hush before the ambulance passes then hush again
III
six feet apart
sure seems better than
six feet under
IV
open for takeout
bingsu melts in august sun
covid casualty
V
VO(i)D
VI
coronavirus
lays over gatherings like
a discarded mask
Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Blood and Thunder, Feral, and Grand Little Things, among others.
Robert Beveridge: because I’m not enough of a masochist already, I made a quick detour a few weeks ago in my Poem a Day challenge and took on the Buson Challenge (after reading about it in Failed Haiku #56). The Buson Challenge is ten threelines a day for 100 days. [note 1: the original was ten haiku a day. I haven’t yet read about anyone who’s done it that’s kept strictly to haiku. note 2: as of this writing I’m on Day 22 and still going strong.] Given we’re all sitting in the middle of interesting times, I have a tendency to write about them–the pandemic, the flaring of social justice movements in the United States, food shortages, etc. Threelines and their related brothers and sisters (monostich, tanka, etc.) seem a good way to encapsulate a lot of this–the short, pointed nature of them makes equally good for dispassionate observation and blistering attack.