High Coup Journal - May 2011 Issue

(Photo by Ann Wright, Plymouth, IN)

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IN THIS ISSUE:

Sara Bickley (West Carrollton, OH)

Salvatore Buttaci (Princeton, WV)

Samuel Franklin (Terre Haute, IN)

Rick Hartwell (Moreno Valley, CA)

Danielle Johnson (Clemente, CA)

Lex Joy (Durham, NH)

Taylor Lampton (New Brunswick, NJ)

Lauren McBride (Houston, TX)

Stephen Miller (Stockbridge, MA)  

Jennifer-Leigh Oprihory (Jersey City, NJ)

Robert Petras (Toronto, OH)

John Tustin (Flushing, NY)

Annie Welch (Louisville, KY)

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Editor's Note:

May, I ask you this:

where do you store all the joy

winter hid away?

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Sara Bickley

Standing humming hymns

outside the confessional

with the leaky door.

Dropped my cigarette.

Is it clean enough to smoke,

or does it matter?

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John Tustin

You still live with him

And I still sleep next to her

Good thing I’m patient

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Lex Joy

Thesis proposal.

 Which work of literature

 will I learn to hate?

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Taylor Lampton

The Undergrad Thesis Shuffle 

Reading. Reading. Notes.

Hypothesis? Nope! Again!

Reading. Reading. Notes.

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Stephen Miller

You have enemies?

We can address that problem...

Nukes cure lots of things!

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Salvatore Buttaci

claustrophobia

in this tight economy

can be stifling

old man knitting brows,

lean on your question-mark cane.

Life’s a mystery.

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Danielle Johnson

Stuffed Toy Cemetery

Seams busted open

Gloomy pile of marred plush toys

Tobin chews and chews

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Robert E. Petras

from "Redneck Haiku"

Second amendment

Tree-hugging sums-a-bitches

Mullet with crosshairs.

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Annie Welch

Bourbon Haiku

The coming of fall

whispered in mid August as

corn turns to liquor

When I feel too seen

I can write in third person

as she finds shelter

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Lauren McBride

homo sapiens

are LGBT labels

so damned important?

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Samuel Franklin

3:30 a.m.

Early morning Haute 

with sleepless, stupid deskjob--

you may kiss my ass.  

This is important

My fecal matter 

matters a lot--but the smell

kills my gray matter.

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Rick Hartwell

good haiku is like

tasty tidbits offered up

inviting your dreams

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May 2011 AWESOME SAUCE: Jennifer-Leigh Oprihory 

Judy Blume

Are you there, God? It's

me, Adam-- Margaret got

knocked up.  What's cracking?

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Now that spring has sprung,

those haiku that spring to mind

should be sprung to us!

highcoupjournal {at} gmail.com

High Coup Journal - December 2010 Issue

(Photo by Ann Wright, Plymouth, IN)

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IN THIS ISSUE:

Al Fogel (Miami Beach, FL)

Edward Jones (Stevens Point, WI)

Maggie Lawson (Christchurch, NZ)

Ray Scanlon (Rehoboth, MA)

Mitzi Sicking (Midland, TX)

Annie Welch (Louisville, KY)

Henry Visotski (Brooklyn, NY)

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Editor's Note:

Candles of romance

stuck in a hanukkiyah:

eight days long and hot.

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Henry Visotski

In school I majored

In Liberal Arts. Dear Sir,

Can you spare a dime?

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Maggie Lawson

cherry cheeks and prayers

painful hindsight swells beneath

in haemorrhoid hues

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Al Fogel

doubting dyslexic

wondering whether or not

there might be a dog

host of fireflies

greeting guests at motel six:

"we'll leave the light on"

hanging upside down

girl in sexy shoes walks by

fall head over heels

practicing Yoga

for years standing on my head

now have shoe fetish

  

newlyweds board ship   

suckerfish attach to shark

whose the real sucker?

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Mitzi Sicking

  

Achoo! Common colds

Settle into lungs, making

Killer pneumonia.

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Edward Jones

looking to the sun

i bow, saying: here, look at

my balding head, please

there, in a back room

i find, among other things,

many, many things

in the silence, a sneeze--

startled looks, sneering faces

feelings of hate, anger

a box of kittens

thrown hard from a New York bridge--

single wasted box

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Ray Scanlon

In the three decker,

rude neighbor may burn in hell:

he practices drums.

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Annie Welch

I write to impress 

I am doing it right now 

do you feel special? 

she wears cracked earrings 

made of mirrors that hang low 

with no reflection 

You must be the one 

to change swords back to words. Start 

Erasing your lips. 

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December 2010 AWESOME SAUCE: Annie Welch

She just found out that 

lies make her angry. Rotting 

words glazed with cherries

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So the year's over,

but we are not (as of yet):

submit your haiku!

highcoupjournal {at} gmail.com