Author: Frank J. Tassone

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Our DIY

Haibun Poem   The white, plastic trellis stands a little crooked. The sides may not line up across her walkway. But it stands. It is the first project Frankie and I complete together. first...

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Grindstone

Haibun Poem   Not even mid-week of the first full week. Overcrowded 10th graders chatter at every transition. Stephan already runs his mouth off. Alex and other repeaters quietly instigate just by talking and...

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Dazed and Confused

Haibun Poem   Voices droned on. About Chancellors’ regulations. Graduations. Assessment deadlines. In a whirl after I looked for colleagues to ask about free periods. Stapled borders to bulletin boards. Attended pointless Professional Development....

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Return

Haibun Poem   The oatmeal with sliced banana has a spongy texture. Each warm spoonful spreads across my tongue. Outside the open back door, a lone bird sings, and then is silent. Breakfast done,...

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Smuggler’s Notch 2012 Travelogue, Part I

Haibun Poetry   Aquatic Massage Hot water jets pummel my back. Steam rises off the water into the cool air. Madonna and Sterling tower above the Mountain View condos bordering the Courtside Pool. The...

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Pre-Smuggs Insomnia

Haibun Poetry   It’s a quarter to one in the morning. Cricket songs, and the ever-present drone of Thruway traffic, pass through our open bedroom windows. We’ll be on our way to Smuggler’s Notch...

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A Tumultuous Zazen

Haibun Coldplay’s “the Scientist” plays. Dreamlike imagery arises: a woman handing out cuvards; a drop of Jesus’ blood. Always returning to “wind.” Breathing The bell gongs. I can’t stand up as the others rise...