Hunger

Haiku are poems

for people who have a fast

metabolism.

Noise 3

Orchestra of yawns
tuning up every morning
in my husband's mouth.

Noise 2

The shower that drips
on and on is my headache-
persistent drum beat.

Noise

The fly that buzzes
round the room is my headache-
alive and throbbing.

How not to cry

Think of the black tracks
that your mascara will make
on your pristine cheeks.

How to drink a cappucino

Stir in the sugar
with care, without breaking
the frothy cocoa heart.

How to sleep well

Eat a banana
and read from a book of poems
just before bed.

Writing haiku on the way home

Counting syllables
on the steering wheel- fingers
tapping unseen words.

Season of mists

All the colours gone
except a wall of red vine
leaves, huge hands waving.

Lost:

One husband, last seen
with new mobile phone and small
book of instructions.

Raindrops keep falling on the radio

"I'm never gonna

stop the rain by complaining-

because I'm free..."

Morning music

The bathroom door swings.
The wire hanger on its hook
quivers, jangles, sings.

Rain on Friday

Rain savvy student
hair wrapped in a plastic bag-
a Tesco turban.

Thursday, 10pm, M1

No satellite found
to navigate through the night but
I don't lose my way.

Rain on Wednesday

Stepping off the train
through a shimmering curtain
strung with beads of rain.