the SEPTA haiku

every day for the month of january 2008, as part of the artclash collective’s fun-a-day project, i wrote a haiku about a stranger i saw on the subway. i wanted it to capture the experiences i have each morning - sometimes poignant, sometimes silly, sometimes just irritating or confusing, but always brief, impressionistic, and distinct. we ignore the communion of shared space - convention is to ignore the people traveling with you and i feel i can learn so much from the people i’m near, even if we never share a word.

i’m sharing words. seventeen syllables at a time.

i’m going to see if i can keep this up for the year - maybe not every day, but close to it. thanks for stopping by, and try to pay attention in your own worlds.

NOTE: i tend to update this a week at a time on thursdays. in the meantime, say hello.
Jun 12

"I used to swallow
metal,” she says. “Nails. Screws. Did 
it to hurt myself.”

Jun 11

On his lap, a square
of cardboard rests to support
his crossword puzzle.

Jan 02

Thanks for reading!

2008 yielded 366 haiku about people I saw on trains, buses, sidewalks and transit stops. (Plus 50 more not listed here about Philadelphia in general, as part of Moira Moody’s Philadelphia Scrapbook project: see here, here, here, here, and here.) The project rewarded me for keeping my ears and eyes open, teaching me not to take my surroundings for granted.

Thank you so much for following!

Dec 31

there’s a buzz on new
year’s, and i don’t just mean the
passengers are buzzed.

Dec 30

her legs are splayed to
guard her giant suitcase on
both overstuffed sides.

Dec 29

they seem like they’re on
a first date; and he should’ve
sprung for a taxi.

Dec 28

everyone looks plump
and proud in new clothes after
their holiday breaks.

Dec 27

she protests when i stop the
car on her behalf.

Dec 26

a child wets his pants.
i’ll forget tomorrow; he’ll
always remember.

Dec 25

large, bright, dressed all in
green, she reminds me of a
smiling christmas tree.