My feet hurt. It could be the extra weight I carry. Or the plantar wart that hobbles me. I’m hoping duct tape is the way to rip out that pain. Why did I agree to go on this picnic? Love? To prove I’m a man? I try to ignore the pain the way I ignore the burn of capsaicin when I shake too much hot sauce onto a turkey sandwich or add one chile more than the recipe calls for. There’s no end to desire.
beneath the bodhi tree ants being ants
is a regular contributor to haiku, haibun, and tanka journals. His fiction, nonfiction, and poetry have appeared or are forthcoming in Flash, Rattle, Modern Haiku, KYSO Flash, MacQueen’s Quinterly, SurVision, Haibun Today, The Haibun Journal, and Contemporary Haibun Online (the latter for which he served as content editor from July 2014 thru January 2020).
His chapbook of haibun, tanka prose, and prose poems, Ethiopian Time (Red Bird Chapbooks, 2014), was an honorable mention in the Touchstone Book Awards. His chapbook Conversation Starters in a Language No One Speaks (SurVision Books, 2018) was a winner of the James Tate Poetry Prize in 2018. He is also the author most recently of a collection of prose poems, haibun, and senryu, My Thology: Not Always True But Always Truth (Cyberwit, 2019); and an e-chapbook, What I Say to You (proletaria.org, 2020).
⚡ A Posthumous Lesson From My Mother and The Party, two haibun by Bob Lucky which were nominated by MacQ for the Red Moon Anthologies, and selected for publication in Contemporary Haibun 17 (Red Moon Press, 2022).
⚡ Featured Poet: Bob Lucky in Issue 10 of MacQ