Scattered Senryu/Sporadic Spring

Pining for the spruces
beyond the window
from my chair in recline.

A lush green campus
students painted
in April brushstrokes.

Blazer’d man
babbling on about
doubting the world.

I could never
doubt God’s green hair
beneath my feet.

An equation
in chalk set to
prove/disprove God.

Scribbling down
a list of ‘pops’
in a time of no bop.

Spring showers striking
the sleek hoods
of BMWs.

Making jokes about trains
-we all know we
don’t ride trains no more.

If there is a god,
where’s my pasture
of galloping unicorns?

Thunderclouds hang
from the gallows
of atmosphere.

Crickets buzzing
the night
before the ritual.

Radiator trembling
unaware of the
temperate evening.

Roses are red;
but they’re blue
yellow and white, too.

Soaking in spring’s
waterfall, and
the poetry of my professor.

The sun struggles
to hang high
in the face of atrophy.

Maybe I’ll write my
masterpiece someday.
Weather’s just too nice today.

A clear sky looks
like it’s been
highlighted in baby blue.

The tulips pried
open, their craniums
to the sun.

Rotten hamburger,
bottled piss.
Odors dance.

Season’s first
mosquito seeks shelter
from the storm.

The humid night is
layered with
gathering doubts.

Citrus air freshener
distracts me from
my unmoving pen.

The gray rug
made a withdrawal
from my guts.

A neon glow
beckons from
an unnamed window.

Can’t we just be
together sprawled like
two starfish in contact?

A daydream—
our lips meet
ad infinitum.

The oscillating fan
is fixed upon
my crumbled mass.

A flock of fake
flamingos, the mother
has been shot!

A visitor would
mistaken the library
for a mausoleum.

Thru slender red lips
a woman asks if
she could pray – for me?

Why choose to race
to a finish line a
grad wishes not to cross?

A white hearse?
Is it death
in reverse?