A Collection of Senryu 1979-2007

by

Alexis Rotella
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA PRESS
P.O. Box 43717
Baltimore, Maryland 21236 USA
www.modernenglishtankapress.com
publisher@modernenglishtankapress.com

OUCH: Senryu That Bite (A Collection of Senryu 1979–2007)

Copyright © 2007 by Alexis Rotella. All rights reserved.

Cover Art by Alexis Rotella.

Acknowledgments: Red Moon, Simply Haiku, Modern Haiku, Point Judith Point
Light, Raw Nervz, High/Coo, MIDDLE CITY, Muse Pie Press, The Haiku
Anthology (ed. Cor van den Heuvel), A String of Monarchs , Yes, Eleven Renga (all
three renga books with Florence Miller, Jade Mountain Press), SASSY (with
Carlos Colón, Tragg Publications), Musical Chairs (A Haiku Journey Through
Childhood), Jade Mountain Press, Rearranging Light (Muse Pie Press); a number
of links from these collections were revised

Refilling our squirt guns, Red Pagoda Broadside Series Winner, 1988
Adonis looking man, renga with ai li, Nothing Inside, Raw Nervz poetry
pamphlet
Obscene phone call, Kaji Aso lst place senryu contest 1991
At the pool hall, Beneath a Single Moon (Shambhala)
Café in Autumn (Modern Haiku Special Mention Award, 1983)
The Messiah, Robed Swami, Mental patient, After his last patient , Haiku
(Public Radio Broadcast, Terra Infirma), Poems set to sound, Colorado State
Council on the Arts Grant, 1993, University of the Trees, Boulder of Colorado
grant)
Mexican jumping beans,2nd place SF International Haiku Comp. 1991
Full moon/a luxurious voice, Haiku on 42nd Street
Quickly I powder my nose, Hawaii Education Association Contest, 1986
In the café, Honorable mention, moonset’s first senryu competition, 2007

Printed in the United States of America, 2007.

ISBN 978-0-6151-6318-5

publisher@modernenglishtankapress.com
www.modernenglishtankapress.com
 For Al Pizzarelli, Fellow Goat

A special nod to the memory of the late Bob Speiss who

published many of these poems in Modern Haiku. A
heartfelt thank you to Publisher of Modern English Tanka
Press, Denis Garrison, for his linear thinking (something I
do not possess) and his sense of humor which makes
getting a book to press a pleasure. And to Al Pizzarelli and
Cor van den Heuvel, dear old friends, copious thanks for
their keen eyes in their perusals of the original manuscript.
And a special kiss blown to Al for inviting me as his special
guest reader to the Haiku North America Conference in
Winston-Salem, N.C. (2007).
 Alexis Rotella

He walks on eggs
around me—
the kung fu master.

Acupuncturists—
the chiropractor calls us all
a bunch of quacks.

Latinos
preparing
the Peking duck.

5
OUCH

Blowing a kiss
to his boyfriend,
captain of the rugby team.

Husband home from work—

haiku for dinner
again.

As he works away
at the income tax—
his cow lick.

6
 Alexis Rotella

One glass of the bubbly—

she puts in her contacts
with Krazy Glue.

Oh, great,
my new shrink looks
like a werewolf.

In a button-down collar
he leaves
the asylum.

7
OUCH

River baptism—
his first bath
in weeks.

Pumping her own gas

woman wearing
Versacci.

Once this box

of toys
was my whole life.

8
 Alexis Rotella

Adonis-looking man—
nothing
inside.

Sidewalk café—
the gigolo pokes a bigger hole
through the comics.

Cussing—
she gets custody
of their St. Bernard.

9
OUCH

High note—
the soprano stands
on tip toe.

Trial attorney
sucking on
a Charm.

On the master’s shoulder pigeon shit.

10
 Alexis Rotella

Reaching toward heaven,

the chi gong master
breaks wind.

Tower of Pisa—
the old Father
leaning on a younger priest.

During dinner,
he tells us
we’re not in his will.

11
OUCH

As the medium tells me

my future,
she tries not to yawn.

Funeral over—
we order pizza
with everything.

Archaeological dig—
a yellow jacket the first
to enter the crypt.

12
 Alexis Rotella

For the better,

the cat rearranges
my tarot spread.

In the cemetery—
why are we
whispering?

Cleaning lady
sweeping us
out of the house.

13
OUCH

After a visit to the john,

the diabetic’s
chocolate smell.

Anniversary—
he gives me pajamas,
the kind with the feet.

Is it male
or female—
the bird watcher?

14
 Alexis Rotella

Happy hour—
the pianist plays
in a cloud of smoke.

Ava Gardner movie—

my husband’s face
softens.

Tending the hat check,

I give the Stetson
to the wrong guy.

15
OUCH

Phone conversation—
when it’s my turn to talk,
hearing him chew.

You used to be so pretty,

says a woman
to my overweight friend.

He tries to
give me his disease—
the hypochondriac.

16
 Alexis Rotella

After shaking my hand,

the doctor wipes his fingers
on a sterile pad.

In the stroganoff,
our guest puts out
his cigar.

I snap at my mother—
the full moon
made me do it.

17
OUCH

The pick-up
filled with old tires
has a flat.

Your foot shouldn’t

have been there, a man says,
after stepping on it.

Chamber music—
this, too,
shall pass.

18
 Alexis Rotella

Bent out of shape,

she rearranges
pots and pans.

The new baby comes home—

again the dog gives his paw
without being asked.

Yachts all docked—

the tinkle
of ice.

19
OUCH

Last day at work—

already someone has taken
the stapler from my desk.

Traveling circus—
my friend asks a gypsy
if she’ll ever conceive.

Up with the rooster

and raring to go—
the house guest.

20
 Alexis Rotella

With Necco wafers,

I offer my dolls
communion.

After his last patient,

the psychoanalyst stares
at the gibbous moon.

Not yet done with our dessert,

the host around us
vacuuming crumbs.

21
OUCH

Old couple’s picket fence—

half of its teeth
missing.

Illegible—
he asks the pharmacist
to decipher my letter.

Turbulence—
the flight attendant’s
rosary beads.

22
 Alexis Rotella

The hitchhiker
gives me
the finger.

At the Christmas party three wise guys.

Gypsy violinist—
I wish he’d
get lost.

23
OUCH

Old pumpkin—
its look
of regret.

One too many Twinkies—

she just makes it
into her kayak.

California friends—
here today,
gone today.

24
 Alexis Rotella

State trooper—
his hat too big
for his head.

Traveling West—
the wide-open spaces
are only in me.

Pushy waitress—
her arm
in a sling.

25
OUCH

Second-hand shop—
on the hat with cherries,
tooth marks.

Dressed for safari—

first stop,
Starbucks!

In a pool of water,
the young waiter
places our check.

26
 Alexis Rotella

This bunch of sad sacks

gathered round the turkey
is my family.

Windy morning—
can can
at the bus stop.

Selling bride dolls,

the woman
with bruises.

27
OUCH

Three weeks
since we moved in—
still no pie.

For Christmas
he gives her
his used VCR.

The bore—
she’s
early.

28
 Alexis Rotella

Follow your bliss,

I tell him—
knowing I’m not it.

Wedding video—
everyone having a ball
without us.

Back from
the deep-fried South,
my jeans too tight.

29
OUCH

Oops the guest

dropped our binoculars
into the Bay.

The chimney sweep

cancels
because of the flu.

Truck driver—
our eyes meet again
in the side-view mirror.

30
 Alexis Rotella

Blackbirds
spring
from a bolt of silk.

Selling turnips—
the farmer lady
shaped like one.

Rising over
the pizza parlor,
Harvest Moon.

31
OUCH

A man asks directions,

hand over
his mouth.

Hiccoughs
on the answering
machine.

On the dresser,
a guest signed his name
in the dust.

32
 Alexis Rotella

Cigar
on the fence post
smouldering away.

He forgets
our anniversary—
pond scum.

Full hunter moon—

the line to play the lottery
makes a circle.

33
OUCH

Again my husband’s Jockies

come out of the washer
pink.

Yellow jacket in his backyard—

the doctor calls
pest control.

Dr. Chin
doesn’t
have one.

34
 Alexis Rotella

After he worked for the company

thirty years—
a chicken supper.

Blowing smoke
in my face,
the young psychiatrist.

Next to the cemetery travel agency.

35
OUCH

Haiku reunion—
some frogs louder
than others.

Seven feet tall

the short-order
cook.

Black bull—
the power it takes
to just sit and glare.

36
 Alexis Rotella

After our guest

plays a sonata,
his boarding-house reach.

Before surgery,
the atheist patting
Buddha’s head.

A few days before

Yom Kippur—
the boss so sweet.

37
OUCH

From the graveyard a hearse in tow.

Again he refuses
a cup of coffee—
Sgt. Friday.

Eat everything
on your plate,
I tell my elderly mother.

* Sgt. Friday was a character in the t.v. show, Dragnet.

38
 Alexis Rotella

Dad dying—
Mom tucks in the loose ends
of his sheets.

My father’s last meal—

his fist in a piece
of carrot cake.

Running across the millionaire’s lawn topiary poodles.

39
OUCH

The doctor’s
chocolate poodle
gets a new nanny.

Last dance—
a skeleton waltzes me
across the floor.

On the line
doing a jig
bib overalls.

40
 Alexis Rotella

Walking around
in a grown-up body,
the brat.

Guests early—
things in the kitchen
start to drop.

Morning coffee—
she reads his
horoscope first.

41
OUCH

Menopause—
I write a nasty letter
to everyone I know.

Filled with white lace

handkerchiefs—
Sr. Mary’s drawer.

Old dentist—
bourbon
on his breath.

42
 Alexis Rotella

At the pound again,

childless
couple.

Dali museum—
my watch
stops.

Digging the garden,

I find the silver spoon
I wasn’t born with.

43
OUCH

Ironing done—
the cat climbs
aboard.

As he chokes
I ask,
Are you all right?

A toy sail boat takes off for Alcatraz.

44
 Alexis Rotella

A photo of me
as a platinum blonde
with what’s his name.

Sick friend
trudging along
in brown.

New young boss—

he’s learning
to strut.

45
OUCH

Trying to
forget him—
stabbing potatoes.

At our wedding,
his mother’s
iced kiss.

Again his mother

refers to me
as SHE.

46
 Alexis Rotella

Vegetarian—
until he smells
the roast lamb.

Three pumpkins
on the same vine—
relatives.

Kigo
schmigo—
another dictionary?

47
OUCH

Aging gigolo—
he even flirts with the dolls
on her bed.

Wash day—
in her son’s pocket,
a bra.

Persian take-out—
the delivery boy
drives a Mercedes.

48
 Alexis Rotella

Class reunion—
my high-school sweetheart shows up
with a younger babe.

Pornographic note—
I lift it with tweezers,
walk it out to the trash.

To see what
I’ve been up to,
I google myself.

49
OUCH

Never say never—

I just said it,
twice.

The painters arrive

and so does
a mosquito.

The painters
forgot the ceiling—
what flakes!

50
 Alexis Rotella

The nun
picks her nose—
old habit.

Archery class—
a tick’s bull’s eye
on my arm.

Archery class over—

I quiver
in his arms.

51
OUCH

The mother rewards

her brat
with yet more sugar.

Toddler strapped in
the back seat
guzzling a Dr. Pepper.

How’s business?
I ask
the undertaker.

52
 Alexis Rotella

Strip poker—
I take off.

The moon
a mango—
wanna tango?

Grandpa’s false teeth

are missing—
and so is my brother.

53
OUCH

Bloomingdale’s credit card—

once it was the answer
to everything.

Mammogram—
sharp angles
of the technician’s face.

To the limo
the Noh actor follows
his stark white breath.

54
 Alexis Rotella

Halloween party—
the little boy
goes as Snow White.

Once a trial attorney—

comics wrapping
homeless feet.

Hanging Christmas lights—

a string
of four-letter words.

55
OUCH

Dinner party—
the cat comes down
to be admired.

He tells me
I talk funny—
kid from the Bronx.

Fingering every cookie

before choosing,
the uninvited guest.

56
 Alexis Rotella

Receiving a bonus,
his spine
straightens.

Family portrait—
all at attention,
even the cats.

Bachelor—
again he orders
chicken soup.

57
OUCH

Haiku poet—
a frog
in his throat.

Erotic art exhibit—

is it the green tea
that’s making me sweat?

In the “take five”

picture frame—
Jesus on the Cross.

58
 Alexis Rotella

Outhouse—
page missing
from the dream book.

Year after year

the same cactus
doing the jerk.

Blue moon—
two saguaros
shaking hands.

59
OUCH

Our dog gone—

every carpet
in its place.

By the champagne punch a fight breaks out.

Now that I’m dying,

she says,
he pays attention to me.

60
 Alexis Rotella

Answering
my letter,
his long silence.

Duck for this one

Before tossing the frisbee,

the gorilla
craps in it.

Riding
the dumb waiter,
mouse.

61
OUCH

For Dad’s 72nd birthday a tombstone.

On all Dad’s secrets the casket shuts.

Summer beach—
a mechanical bird
flies across the lake.

62
 Alexis Rotella

Fry cook—
his sweat salting
our sweetbreads.

Old boxer
telling a joke,
forgets the punch line.

On the secretary’s desk

another picture
of herself.

63
OUCH

Widow’s first date—

he brings along
a can of snuff.

Before jumping,
the suicide takes off
his gold watch.

While doing
the tango
my wig slides off.

64
 Alexis Rotella

When a cat appears

from the master’s brush,
someone’s sneeze.

The surfer looks

into the mirror—
an old man staring back.

His best man—

the town
Casanova.

65
OUCH

Nursing home—
the paralyzed woman
cheers me up.

Blind date—
he forgot
his wallet.

Cricket in the wall—

the motel guest
complains.

66
 Alexis Rotella

While the nurse draws

an old man’s blood,
he reaches for her breast.

Tourist trap—
a waiter tosses plates
onto the tables.

Sienna, Italy

With a straight face,

he straightens
my halo.

67
OUCH

Before the parade,

the bagpiper
chews down his nails.

After the eulogy champagne bubbles.

With my hair pin

he fixes
his engine.

68
 Alexis Rotella

Setting the table,

clearing the table—
this is my life.

First class—
the flight attendant
forgot a corkscrew.

In morning sun
my lame friend
practicing pleies.

69
OUCH

Husband’s cough
could be my father’s—
winter night.

The atheist’s sneeze—

I bite
my tongue.

A week’s
wages gone—
silk shop.

70
 Alexis Rotella

With a straight face,

the plumber charges
200 bucks.

Sweeping
around
the cat.

Practicing
flamenco
on bubble wrap.

71
OUCH

In the shadow
of a clock-tower,
elderly prostitute.

Wandering through
the gypsy tent,
a tipsy gent.

In the privy,
crossword
to be continued.

72
 Alexis Rotella

From the frat-house mailbox,

the postman pulls
lace panties.

At the yard sale—

all the gifts she gave
her daughter-in-law.

Old-lady doll—
years she sits on
the country-store shelf.

73
OUCH

Through the window screen another piano lesson.

Out the pick-up,

the landscaper tosses
his Slurpy cup.

I thought you were

eating them all—
dog’s banana breath.

74
 Alexis Rotella

For this illness,

who can I punch
in the mouth?

Before his father’s funeral,

he skims
the stock-market page.

Car rattle—
my husband
falls apart.

75
OUCH

Cruise ship—
a floating
geriatric ward.

From our dumpster,

a neighbor furnishes
his apartment.

Dad’s tombstone
finally arrives—
Mom’s, too.

76
 Alexis Rotella

Still flailing her arms,

the woman a wave
brought ashore.

After Dad’s last rites,

the nurse
draws yet more blood.

Get me out of here,

Dad says,
in a coma.

77
OUCH

Recess—
the boy from home room
swallows another earthworm.

Not invited
to his wake—
the common-law wife.

You’re acting like a child,

says the father
to his little boy.

78
 Alexis Rotella

Lying in the gutter Santa Claus.

In the bidet
bachelor soaking
a week’s worth of socks.

I was a safety patrol boy,

says my husband
in a hallowed voice.

79
OUCH

From the sales clerk

in the angel shop,
a scowl.

In the shut in’s room ship in a bottle.

From their second story gazebo,

they look out
over the new landfill.

80
 Alexis Rotella

Among her valentines divorce decree.

Last cherry orchard—

the developer
wins.

Superbowl Sunday—
I remember not to call
my brother.

81
OUCH

No hook for his hat,

it goes back
on his head.

An hour before their vows,

he hands her
a prenup.

The shrink
telling me
her problems.

82
 Alexis Rotella

The person I wrote

the book for
doesn’t buy a copy.

On my new gypsy skirt,

the klutz
drops a meatball.

Lady of the night

with a black eye
lowers her price.

83
OUCH

Come on in!
blurts little brother
to the Bible seller.

Gourmet Club dinner—

sauteeing kidneys,
the urologist.

With all her might,

the spurned woman
throws the wedding rice.

84
 Alexis Rotella

Still waiting
to be happy—
friend with a face lift.

Less zazen
I tell the patient
with hemorrhoids.

On the anniversary
of my father’s death,
no one mentions him.

85
OUCH

Men laying tar—

our white cat
goes out to watch.

From a hat,
I pull my major—
philosophy.

Flash in the gypsy’s eye

when she sees
my gold cross.

86
 Alexis Rotella

Toothless now—
the boy who wore
tight leather pants.

Old bikers
on their way
to Nirvana.

Stuffing himself
with chocolate-chip cookies,
the vegetarian.

87
OUCH

Tightwad
clenching
his fists.

His mean streak—

everyone sees it
but him.

Stained-glass chapel—
seeing the boss
in a different light.

88
 Alexis Rotella

Old dressmaker—
above her bed a photo of her
with Loretta Young.

Addressing MENSA
on astrology—
all arms tightly crossed.

While his dog poops

on our lawn the neighbor
looks the other way.

89
OUCH

Rush-hour train—
a prostitute
reading the obituaries.

Ivrea, Italy

After his suicide,

she says he did it
all for her.

All rumpled the psychic’s clothes.

90
 Alexis Rotella

Petting an alley cat lady of the night.

Eyes of the old prostitute slits.

To the potluck
Aunt Sophie brings
her sharp tongue.

91
OUCH

Her hello—
hearing the goodbye
in it.

The gynecologist
walks into the examining room
wearing a micro-mini.

In the unemployment line a mink.

92
 Alexis Rotella

Our cat runs

to greet them—
Bible ladies.

Mozart!
my doctor orders,
twice a day.

I tell the doctor

it was powerful—
sugar pill.

93
OUCH

Swiss clinic—
even the sausages
are white.

Ouch
I scream
before the shot.

Office Christmas party—

the prude shows
a little cleavage.

94
 Alexis Rotella

On the quote
I need,
the cat asleep.

Birthday card—
all day the glitter
on my hands.

Floating along
in priestly robes,
the pedophile.

95
OUCH

Remembering his laugh,

the friend
who jumped off this bridge.

From peep show

to peep show,
man with an angelic face.

Grave side—
widow all
in white.

96
 Alexis Rotella

Midnight—
calling a cab
to go buy cigarettes.

Voting booth—
I close
my eyes.

Christmas morning—
Santa forgot
my tiny transistor.

97
OUCH

Football star—
he lets his mother
mow the grass.

A nice effort
she says
about my book.

Before they say hello,

guests bowing
to our white cat.

98
 Alexis Rotella

Morning after
the poetry reading—
phone silent.

Thunderstorm—
the widow in bed
fully dressed.

Their tombstones
leaning on each other—
Grandma and Grandpa.

99
OUCH

He can’t look me
in the eye—
office spy.

Hedges in
perfect squares—
tailor’s yard.

In a loud voice,
the secretary tells everyone
her mantra.

100
 Alexis Rotella

In my pocket
the snowman’s
eyes.

Elvis—
too bad you blew it,
you old hound dog.

Bonsai demonstration—
another person
starts to snore.

101
OUCH

In the dirt,
two astrologers
drawing lines.

The master’s fart—

we all pretend
we didn’t hear.

All around
the war memorial,
marijuana sprouts.

102
 Alexis Rotella

Dropping in
on the clam bake,
a sky diver.

Homeless man—
comics
his quilt.

Thanksgiving dinner—
for his chubby sister,
he pulls out two chairs.

103
OUCH

In the phone booth

a little girl
talking to God.

Garage sale—
the boy next door
looking for girls.

In the potting shed

the potted priest.

104
 Alexis Rotella

She’ll start her diet

just as soon as she finishes
her sub.

Daddy, come and get me—

voice
in the nursing home.

After dinner
men telling
fart jokes.

105
OUCH

On vacation—
this beanie with the propeller
is definitely me.

The gay acupuncturist—

his specialty,
menopause.

The three-legged dalmatian

hops down the road—
forgetting my problems.

106
 Alexis Rotella

Unable to look at him,

the classmate who flunked
yet another exam.

Together they push

the mower—
frail mom and dad.

Newly wed—
before bed
she makes up her face.

107
OUCH

Scooping my curls
from the beauty shop floor,
my young mother.

Snooping in mom’s
girdle drawer,
a book on how babies are made.

And where,
pray tell,
did the stork come from?

108
 Alexis Rotella

The long hair

my husband loved—
the sound of it falling onto the floor.

The psychic’s third husband also a philanderer.

Our prized flaming maple—

the neighbor says
it’s hers.

109
OUCH

At the nurse’s station

late at night,
talk of horoscopes.

Power outage—
she refreezes the piece of cake
from her first marriage.

After I make him

three dinners,
he takes me out Dutch treat.

110
 Alexis Rotella

Don’t call me elderly

screams
an old friend.

Spinster
airing out
her dead father’s pants.

First time—
no one tells me
how great I look.

111
OUCH

Obscene call—
our old aunt asks,
Could you repeat that?

In the café—
the beautiful young face
not mine.

Hospice nurse—
her sweater
inside out.

112
 Alexis Rotella

My spade hits
a blue marble from
my father’s childhood.

Chronic fatigue—
someone sends me
War and Peace.

New medicine—
today I’m looking
for my feet.

113
OUCH

Shrink’s waiting room—

stuffing popping out
of the couches.

From her neon window,

the crystal gazer
stares into winter rain.

At the pool hall

spouting zen,
the young stud.

114
 Alexis Rotella

Gingko for memory—

she forgets
to take it.

Retired—
he watches his wife
prune the hedge.

In a trance
the widow
changing channels.

115
OUCH

At Uncle’s grave,
only the cleaning lady
sobs.

No one tries
to catch it—
bridal bouquet.

They get married

in sweats—
the 80-year olds.

116
 Alexis Rotella

No one touches them—

the cleaning lady’s
homemade chocolates.

Thumbing her nose

at the rapids—
white-water rafter.

Every day he visits

the Mona Lisa—
pick pocket.

117
OUCH

Letting him sleep—

my husband
with all-white hair.

In the deli
chunks
of the moon.

Wine
improving
my French.

118
 Alexis Rotella

Another birthday—
fewer and fewer
visitors.

California neighbors—
one makes wine,
the other rain.

In an old ballroom cats sunning.

119
OUCH

Army helicopter
motionless
in front of the moon.

Waking up—
the dream goes on
without me.

Accountant
eating
fudge.

120
 Alexis Rotella

Finding comfort
on an old dog’s back—
tired feet.

It meant nothing?
The black eye
he gave her.

The China Airlines jet

lifts off,
heavy with ancestors.

121
OUCH

Midnight
perfume
by Skunk.

Get a life
I tell
the heavy breather.

Over breakfast,
he consults the Dow,
and I the Tao de Ching.

122
 Alexis Rotella

In a dream
I serve him
rat.

Wet cement the possibilities.

Spring morning—
a homeless woman
wears a tiara.

123
OUCH

Out of work—
the CEO bosses
his wife around.

She’s running for office—

for the first time,
my neighbor waves.

After heart surgery,

someone sends him
a shaker of salt.

124
 Alexis Rotella

Old man—
first he asks to die,
then for a ham sandwich.

Before visiting the cemetery,

Grandma irons
a handkerchief.

Quickly I powder my nose,

my mother
staring back.

125
OUCH

Leave a message,
my dead uncle says
on the answering machine.

Robed swami—
I hear he beats
his wife.

On the shady side

of the street,
the lawyer’s office.

126
 Alexis Rotella

In the soup line an aristocratic nose.

The messiah
is coming—
call Ticketron.

Rich kid
on his motorbike—
price tag still attached.

127
OUCH

In Filene’s basement,
tug-of-war
over a red brassiere.

I thought you’d
be prettier,
says my blind date.

In the index
the names without caps
do stand out.

128
 Alexis Rotella

Breakfast dive—
chlorine smell
from the jasmine tea.

49th birthday—
I send myself
a dozen roses.

Mid July—
a Christmas wreath still
on the doctor’s door.

129
OUCH

He watches me
paint my toenails red—
binoculared boy next door.

Feeding the goldfish,

how some try
to get it all.

Yesterday’s headlines
printed on
a trout.

130
 Alexis Rotella

Emergency Room—
bride
with a migraine.

Halloween—
Count Dracula in the Superstore
shrink wrapping steaks.

Before going downstairs,

I adjust the stars
on my tiara.

131
OUCH

I buy him two balls—

our dog who
just got neutered.

Hitching to Vegas,
she marries the guy
who gave her a lift.

The juggler’s
fly
open.

132
 Alexis Rotella

Senile priest—
telling the congregation
our secrets.

Gallery owner—
her dress the color
of fog.

Dad in a coma
asking
for his hat.

133
OUCH

The weatherman’s face—

long
today.

Put-putting
into town—
watermelon truck.

On our short walk,

her long list
of maladies.

134
 Alexis Rotella

From the pulpit,

the preacher’s saliva
strikes my cheek.

The pool guy struts,

like he thinks
I’m watching.

No one home
at the old-age home.

135
OUCH

My husband’s
new boss—
a boy.

Annual conference—
the boss praises
only the wine.

For Christmas
in-laws bring their colds
and flu.

136
 Alexis Rotella

Again all new faces California Christmas.

His lover
has a sex change—
now what?

Two yuppies
puffing on stogies—
tears in their eyes.

137
OUCH

He keeps looking
at his watch—
the psychiatrist.

The fiddler
on her lunch-break
orders crab.

If only
this friendly ghost
could pay some rent.

138
 Alexis Rotella

Leave it,
I tell the gardener—
spider web.

A poster of Mt. Fuji this craving for an ice cream float.

60's style diner—

the waitress
an oldie.

139
OUCH

Brigitte Bardot
has gotten old, my husband says—
his own double chin.

In my mashed potatoes
the waitress leaves
her thumb print.

Guys at the class reunion—

their bellies
precede them.

140
 Alexis Rotella

Bus gone—
and so is
his toupee.

Morning espresso—
how I’ll miss it
when I’m dead.

Aunt in the casket

still wearing
bifocals.

141
OUCH

Dude ranch—
Bhagavad Gita
in the head.

Spring cleaning—
a long letter
from someone named Jim.

Old woman
misting her orchids,
and her husband.

142
 Alexis Rotella

Staunch atheists—
their only child
a minister.

Sitting out the winter

in the outhouse—
stone Buddha.

Café in autumn—
the waiter wearing
Buddha’s face.

143
OUCH

Pumpkin people
on a front porch—
one waves.

Wonton soup
for one to go
far away.

Still thinking
of the dog in the pound
named Troubles.

144
 Alexis Rotella

Mexican jumping beans—

I thought they were
my vitamins.

After the neighbor

cuts down our hemlock,
I invite him in for tea.

He said he spent
the night alone—
hairpin on the floor.

145
OUCH

To the divorce court

she wears
her highest heels.

Aunt Millie’s
hope chest—
hopeless.

After the exam

the doctor washes
his hands of me.

146
 Alexis Rotella

Refilling our
squirt guns
at the baptismal font.

First day of fishing—

his wife catches
the larger trout.

Hanging out
his pink panties—
guy next door.

147
OUCH

Not invited to their wedding—

all night
the band playing.

Both tongues hanging—

bulldog
and jogger.

Morning fog—
I go
to vote.

148
 Alexis Rotella

Damn you for leaving,

cries the widow
stoking the fire.

His dog gone—

the codger
starts to drink.

Harpist
plucking notes
from morning air.

149
OUCH

In the mail,
Valentine special
from the plastic surgeon.

Plastic surgeon carving

pumpkins—
one of them not too happy.

Call me, he says,

when you feel like
talking pots and pans.

150
 Alexis Rotella

The toddler tells a neighbor,

We put a lot of money
into this house.

Phone rings—
the poem
gone.

In a sunspot
new
widow.

151
OUCH

Waitress with a shiner

showing off
her diamond.

From patient to patient

the doctor hums,
thanks to insurance.

The David we traveled

so far to see—
a copy.

152
 Alexis Rotella

One day old—

his aunt buys him
a dictionary.

Prayer group
sending Hurricane Charlie
out to sea.

Shucking corn—
I scream
at a worm.

153
OUCH

Breast-side down—
the widower
puts in the turkey.

Mental patient
howling
at the moon.

I flunked spelling,
smirks
the witch.

154
 Alexis Rotella

Three hundred pounds,

but the boy
can boogie.

Old hippie
talking
hip replacement.

Over the threshold

the bride
carries the groom.

155
OUCH

Handsome butcher—
I like
his mutton chops.

Psychic hot line—

he’ll call in two days
or two weeks.

Leaving him—
he waits with me
for the train.

156
 Alexis Rotella

Spam—
I’d rather eat
this poem.

Size of
a sleeping pill—
the moon.

From the carousel

a man in a turban
waves.

157
OUCH

In the mountain stream a pair of dentures.

The kitten
takes off
with my powder puff.

Where the theater

burned down,
still finding quarters.

158
 Alexis Rotella

No curlicues on the electric chair.

Ex Lax—
you ate
the whole box?

Gypsy
shooing
a fly.

159
OUCH

The widower next door

stands her up—Mom’s first visit
to the land of fruit and nuts.

Family gone—
my back
goes out.

What?
No pastries?
blurts our guest.

160
 Alexis Rotella

Dotting the I
of the Olympia Diner—
the moon.

Philosophy major
driving
a Good Humor truck.

Dalai Lama—
even he’s afraid
to fly.

161
OUCH

In my new binoculars
the neighbor
with a more expensive pair.

In a pink sari
a woman
floating through KMart.

Wearing gold chains,

the garbage man
leaps off the truck.

162
 Alexis Rotella

The voice of a call girl velvet.

My umbrella
sprayed with cat urine—
boy, am I pissed.

A Navajo sprinkles
a yellow powder
from the Eiffel Tower.

163
OUCH

Sold to the only bidder,

casket
with a window.

After taking a claw,

the redneck throws back
the crab.

Into his martini

I drop
a hailstone.

164
 Alexis Rotella

After his apology

the letters
stop.

Wife gone—
the old man staples
the cuff of his pants.

Crossing the Atlantic

two strangers
converse in Latin.

165
OUCH

Full moon—
a luxurious voice
on the answering machine.

The hot dog vendor

eating
a tuna-fish sandwich.

After I walk him

to his car he walks me
to mine.

166
 Alexis Rotella

Redwood house—
everyone in it
tall.

In red elevator shoes,

the pimp calls me
baby.

Married—
but he’s out doing
the camel walk.

167
OUCH

Going to yard sales,

finding
the same faces.

Royal wedding
on T.V.—
my mother vacuuming.

Ring imprinted on his wallet—

What’s that?
his mother asks.

168
 Alexis Rotella

Witch’s hat—
it was made
for me.

Eating his liver,

the rooster
who jumped me.

Mom away—
Dad paints the cellar
Pepto Bismol pink.

169
OUCH

We laugh on the phone—

friend with
the same illness.

I’m happy to do it—

gutting
the prima donna’s trout.

At the Plaza,
I treat myself
to the ladies room.

170
 Alexis Rotella

Tourist—
fishing her purse from
the New Hope Canal.

Humid night—
an old woman’s legs
spread apart.

On my needlepoint moon,
the lawyer
rests his case.

171
OUCH

Red stilettos—
I won’t break my neck
for any man.

Dripping
with sake,
his goatee.

A little ghost
trips up
the steps.

172
 Alexis Rotella

A real
people-person—
the mortician.

Bride’s leg in a cast—

still he tries out
all his moves.

Red
the coal miner’s
pinkie nail.

173
OUCH

After Matisse skaters in Central Park.

He asks me out—
Sen-Sen rattling
in his pocket.

Expunging my sins,
priest’s
garlic breath.

174
 Alexis Rotella

Tiny
woodpecker
rattling the house.

D D D Dat’s all, folks!

175
OUCH

Haiga by Alexis Rotella

176
 Alexis Rotella

Calligraphy by Alexis Rotella

177
OUCH

178
 Alexis Rotella

BY ALEXIS ROTELLA:

Butterfly Breezes (An Anthology of Haiku), Jade Mountain, 1981

Clouds in my Teacup, Wind Chimes Press, 1982
Tuning the Lily, High/Coo Press, 1983
On a White Bud, Merging Media, 1984
After an Affair, Merging Media, 1984 (Merit Book Award
Runner-up)
Camembert Comes from the Sea, White Peony Press, 1984
Harvesting Stars, Jade Mountain Press, 1984
ASK!, Muse Pie Press, 1984
Rearranging Light, Muse Pie Press, 1985 (HSA Merit Book
Award Runner-up)
Closing the Circle, Muse Pie Press, 1985
Polishing a Ladybug, Swamp Press, 1985
Middle City, Muse Pie Press, 1986 (N.J. State Council on the
Arts grant)
Beards and Wings, White Peony Press, 1986
Moonflowers, Jade Mountain Press, 1987
Drizzle of Stars (with Scott Montgomery and Bob Boldman),
Jade Mountain Press, 1988
The Lace Curtain, Jade Mountain Press, 1989
Antiphony of Bells, Jade Mountain Press,1989
How Words and Thoughts Affect Your Body, Jade Mountain Press,
1989
The Essence of Flowers, Jade Mountain Press, 1989
The Rise and Fall of Sparrows (A Collection of North American
Haiku), Los Hombres Press, 1990
Star Power (Haiku Poetry Pamphlet), Haiku Canada, 1991
Carousel (30 Senryu), Juniper Press, 1991 (Third Place, Merit
Book Awards)
An Unknown Weed, King’s Road Press, 1991 (Merit Book Award
Runner-up)

179
OUCH

Voice of the Mourning Dove, White Peony Press, 1991

Looking for a Prince, White Peony Press, 1991
Eleven Renga (with Florence Miller), Jade Mountain Press, 1992
Haiku (Public Radio Broadcast, Terra Infirma), Poems set to
sound, Colorado State Council on the Arts Grant, 1993
Musical Chairs (A Haiku Journey Through Childhood), Jade
Mountain Press, 1994
A String of Monarchs (with Florence Miller), Jade Mountain
Press,1994
YES (with Florence Miller), Jade Mountain Press, 1994
No One Inside ( a linked poem with Carlos Colon), Proof Press,
1996
Sassy (with Carlos Colon), Tragg Publishing, 1998
Blue Burqas ( a kukame with ai li), Proof Press, 2002
In Dubuque: Haiku and Longer Poetry Meet, unpublished
Round Faces and Nesting Dolls, a tanka renga sequence on growing
up Orthodox, with an’ya
Lip Prints: Tanka and Other Short Poems 1979–2007, Modern
English Tanka Press, 2007
Eavesdropping: Seasonal Haiku, Modern English Tanka Press,
2007
Ash Moon Anthology (tanka on aging) co-edited with Denis M.
Garrison, Modern English Tanka Press, 2008
Elvis in Black Leather, Modern English Tanka Press, 2008.

180
 Alexis Rotella

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Alexis Rotella served as President of the Haiku Society of

America (Japan House) in 1984 and edited Frogpond , Brussels
Sprout and The Persimmon Tree. Her haiku, senryu and tanka have
won many awards and recognition. Her work appears in
numerous anthologies including Global Haiku (Twenty-five Poets
World-wide), George Swede and Randy Brooks, Mosaic Press;
How to Haiku, Haiku Moment, both by Bruce Ross, Tuttle;
Beneath a Single Moon (Buddhism in Contemporary American Poetry),
Johnson and Paulenich, Shambhala; The Haiku Anthology 3rd ed.,
Cor van den Heuvel, Norton; Haiku I (Poesies Anciennes et
Modernes) Jackie Hardy, Editions Vega; Haiku for Lovers, Manu
Bazzano (MQP); Czeslaw Milosz/ HAIKU (Krakow, Poland);
Synesthesia in Haiku and Other Essays, Toshimi Horiuchi
(University of Philippines Press) and Haiku in English, Hiroaki
Sato (Simul Press, Japan).

Rotella’s longer work and Japanese related poems have

appeared in hundreds of journals and magazines including The
New York Times (Metropolitan Diary), Christian Science Monitor,
Family Circle, Glamour, New Letters, The Paterson Literary Review ,
Chiron Review, Blue Mesa Review, The Madison Review, Lynx,
Frogpond, Modern Haiku, Simply Haiku, Red Lights, Wisteria,
Ribbons, and Bottle Rockets. Alexis is author of the poem Purple
which appeared in numerous publications including Chicken
Soup for the Soul (1st ed.) and Love, Magic and Mudpies by Bernie
Siegel, M.D. (Rodale Press).

Alexis Rotella lives in Arnold, Maryland where she is a

practitioner of Oriental Medicine. She is also an ordained
interfaith minister and a member of The Church of What’s
Happening Now.

181
OUCH

182
 Alexis Rotella

ABOUT LOOKING FOR A PRINCE: SOMERSAULTING

THROUGH THE UNIVERSE

“Alexis Rotella’s work reflects the wide spectrum of the Creation

itself—glowing with the special light of art. With just a few words, she
catches life’s revealing moments with an insight and depth that the
movies—if they were able—would take millions of dollars and the
talents of hundreds to capture.

“Some of her poems throw off stars like a wand in a Disney cartoon,
drawing pictures of the Cinderellas of this world as they try to balance
their romantic dreams with reality. Others lay bare, as in a Capra
comedy, the foibles of all kinds of people, from heart-surgeons to
innkeepers, from upper-class matrons to feminists. She can create
darker moods, too, reaching out a hand to open the curtain on
psychological dramas of silence and repression like those found in
Bergman. Or she may direct a love scene with such a bittersweet
mixture of emotion and humor it rivals one of Chaplin’s. She opens
our eyes to nature, too, with the kind of love of rain and sunlight that
stains with beauty the films of a Kurosawa. You may even find a few
Hitchcockian mysteries!

“She can do all this using only words—in haiku, senryu and in longer
works. Here in LOOKING FOR A PRINCE, she does it all through
senryu—the witty, tender, funny, sad, sometimes MERCILESS
younger sister of haiku. So, though there may be a few haiku-like
backdrops, the focus is on the human being—the paradoxes, the
inconsistencies, the wisdom and foolishness, the sweet and sour of
this often-times absurd creature somersaulting through the universe
somewhere between the angels and Donald Duck!

“Enter this theater of senryu and you will search for a prince and tell
lies, feel the pain of seeing a lover’s face light up for another, see the
irony in a brothel’s candy dish, grin at a little girl’s blunt honesty, and
groan over an inconsiderate house guest—and then smile at him and
yourself, too, for most (all?) of life is funny when looked at from the
right angle.

183
“Rotella has a genius for finding that angle—even when looking at
herself—and that genius spotlights scenes from the human comedy
throughout this remarkable book.”

— Cor van den Heuvel, Editor, The Haiku Anthology (Simon and
Schuster)

“Ever attentive to what’s going on around her, Alexis Rotella has

recreated here some of the passing moments of her life that are at
once funny and wistful.”
— Hiroaki Sato, From the Country of Eight Islands (Columbia University
Press)

“Alexis Rotella is one of the best haiku poets in the United States. She
has a born talent to capture the haiku moment in nature and in the
human world. If she had been born in Japan, she would have become
a leading haiku poetess. In this collection of senryu, she shows her
deep and poignant insight into human nature.”
— Kazuo Sato, Professor, Waseda University; Director of Interna-
tional Division, Museum of Haiku Literature (Tokyo)

“I have often wondered why senryu has not become as popular as

haiku in America. Wit and humor have always been an essential part
of American literature; the Americans in general have a more
independent, critical mind than the Japanese. Alexis Rotella has been
one of the few Americans who has experimented with this traditional
Japanese verse form, publishing a good number of them in magazines.
Collected herein, these mini-poems explore the poetic potential of
senryu in English to the full, inviting others to smile, grin or laugh
with her—and perhaps, to reflect on their own lives and to write a
senryu or two.”
— Makoto Ueda, Professor of Japanese and Director of the Center
for East Asian Studies, Stanford University. Author, Modern Japanese
Poets and the Nature of Literature (Stanford University Press)

184
 Modern English
Tanka Press
P.O. Box 43717
Baltimore, MD 21236

Modern English Tanka Press

publishes fine short verse.

Visit us online at www.modernenglishtankapress.com.

Most titles are trade paperback, 6"x9", perfect binding.

2007 Releases
Tanka Teachers Guide, compiled by Denis M. Garrison.
Articles by Michael McClintock, Amelia Fielden, Jeanne
Emrich, M. Kei, Jean LeBlanc, and Denis M. Garrison. 108
pages. 8½"x11" paperback, price $10.95. Ebook is $2.00.

Five Lines Down: A Landmark in English Tanka,

Compiled and edited by Denis M. Garrison. All four issues of
the original Five Lines Down (1994-1996) tanka journal
edited by Kenneth Tanemura and Sanford Goldstein. 160
pages. Price $18.95 ISBN 978-0-6151-5621-7.

Sixty Sunflowers, Tanka Society of America Members’

Anthology for 2006-2007, Edited by Sanford Goldstein.
108 pages. Price $15.00 ISBN 978-0-6151-5228-8.

Modern English Tanka V1 N4 [Summer 2007] Quarterly

journal edited by Denis M. Garrison & Michael McClintock.
256 pages. Price $12.95 ISSN 1932-9083.

The Dreaming Room: Modern English Tanka in Collage

and Montage Sets, Edited by Michael McClintock and Denis
M. Garrison. A companion volume to The Five-Hole Flute.
120 pp. Price: $17.95 ISBN 978-0-6151-5083-3.
Haiku Harvest : 2000-2006, Compiled and edited by Denis
M. Garrison. A compilation of the eleven issues of Haiku
Harvest: Journal of Haiku in English, plus two issues of Haiku
Noir and one issue of Ku Nouveau. 468 pages. Price $29.95
ISBN 978-0-6151-4797-0.

Eight Shades of Blue (3rd Ed.), Denis M. Garrison’s first

haiku collection. 96 pp. Price $12.95 ISBN 978-0-6151-
4798-7.

Modern English Tanka V1 N3 [Spring 2007] Quarterly

journal edited by Denis M. Garrison & Michael McClintock.
252 pages. Price $12.95 ISSN 1932-9083.

The Salesman's Shoes, Tanka (a first collection) by James

Roderick Burns. 96 pages. Price $13.95 ISBN 978-0-6151-
4396-5.

2006 Releases

The Five-Hole Flute: Modern English Tanka in Sequences

and Sets, anthology edited by Denis M. Garrison & Michael
McClintock. 116 pp. Price $13.95 ISBN 978-0-6151-3794-0.

Hidden River, Denis M. Garrison’s second haiku collection.

184 pages. Price $15.95 ISBN 978-0-6151-3825-1.

Modern English Tanka V1 N2 [Winter 2006], Quarterly

journal edited by Denis M. Garrison & Michael McClintock.
252 pages. Price $12.95 ISSN 1932-9083.

Modern English Tanka V1 N1 [Autumn 2006], Quarterly

journal edited by Denis M. Garrison & Michael McClintock.
260 pages. Price $12.95 ISSN 1932-9083.