Sorting through some of the chaos of my study I found a hard copy of Otoliths, Issue Two, Part One, and in it this poem of mine. I'd forgotten about it, but I like it:
(for Jordan Stempleman, once again)
color or form.
I know is
be born again
a shaken colander.
mediated by calendars.
In retrospect, this piece is one of my best hay(na)ku outings.