Tanka 243, 244, 245

From the collection The Immediate and No Sooner, published in 2021.

Tanka 243

in the half-darkness
over a box of popcorn
he leers. I decide:
Ladies’ room. Break up by text.
Leave. Go home.
Good thing I drove.

Tanka 244

dressed fleecy dowdy
they exchange colorless smiles
waxy pleasantries
Against tired indifference
any anecdote struggles.

Tanka 245

scraping the paper
the short stub of a pencil
lists ingredients
for the traditional cake
in your grandmother’s writing

5 thoughts on “Tanka 243, 244, 245

  1. All three really capture something in a few words. The first is creepy, and yes–good thing that person drove! The second is sad, but the third is my favorite–so poignant.

  2. I find that final poem really touching in a bittersweet way. It is that connection between the past and present, the bridges between generations, that is so poignant and also so meaningful in a cozy way.

    • When I wrote this I could see my grandmother scrawling away and the pencils she used to use – they didn’t get thrown out until they were shorter than a thumb, it always seeemd to me

Comments are closed.