Haiku Post #2: Sushkus (the spagkus of sushi)

So, these were written while I was employed at my last waiting job. All of them were written while I was at work, except the first two (dated 12-19-14).


Some of these are dark. I didn’t remember most of these until I got them typed from my friend (thanks, New Nathan!) and I was surprised. It isn’t surprising, considering I’ve been working on my book about surviving incest, but still-it gets kinda dark. Just saying, please be cautious.

If you like what you see, especially the funnier/server-geared ones, I recommend my first batch of haikus.

Thanks for reading!


Both my friends are stoned.

Discussing existential

crisis is heavy.


Regular show says,

“No good cheese goes unpunished”

sing, “lies, lies, lies, yeah!”



Being judgy-faced

makes me feel sad and guilty

But sometimes, you’re dumb.


Rolls upon rolls flow

from sushi bar to counter.

They all look alike.


No one speaks English.

I need to learn Mandarin

to follow the jokes.


Watching people eat

makes me feel less hungry than

you might think it would.



Every Katy Perry

song ever made plays at work.

Now I know them all.


Place soy sauce dishes

like this, the better to stack.

Plate, napkin, chopsticks.


Our Christmas decor

consists of a pre-lit tree

and one paper flake.


Open for Christmas.

Open for New Year’s Day, too.

I kinda like that.



Every time I leave

the house, I fear I forgot

my pants. Damn you, tights.


Family joints run

differently than corporate.

One of us must bend.


“Why does Red Bull give

away free samples like that?”

“Not a bad tactic.”


Growing up in a

restaurant owned by your folks

provokes emotion.


Hey, old guys at the

sushi bar talking pronouns:

Can I be your friend?



Ate a good breakfast

Peanut butter bagel and

I’m still wanting more.



I pass winter ducks

on the way into work, and

wonder how they heat.


Snowing outside. Makes

a beautiful blanket of

dead business for us.


All our plants are fake.

So is the crab meat in rolls.

Sushi is pretend.


Am I hungry or

queasy? The question of the

ages, in my mind.


AMC plays weird

movies, but it’s better than

CNN, always.



Let’s install mirror

balls and play dubstep: loudly.

We’ll call it, “Hot Rolls”.


“Japanese soda.”

“Do you know how to open

it? Cause I do not.”


I stare at myself

in the reflective metal

of the sushi bar…


People either love

or hate those guava candies

we put in the check.


I haven’t traveled

in over a year now, and

I’m getting restless.


I stopped standing

when co-workers are sitting.

It’s like permission.


Bilingual servers

are always helping the kids

with homework. By choice?


I wish I could throw

people out of windows when

they throw off my groove.



Can’t let my mind run.
It goes too far, too fast, and

I might not catch up.


Girls eating sushi

Lip syncing to the music…

We’re hosting good times.


Ten days til rent’s due.

My check is disappointing.

Less money for pot.


I hope to go to

Europe, Asia, Africa,

and home to my bed.


The clock moves slower

if you watch it. I swear it

moved backward through lunch.


I keep thinking that

the guys can sense me behind

them, but they cannot.



Tonight’s snow is light.

Like confectioner’s sugar

sifted over streets.


The creek runs stronger

from this afternoons’ melt.

Where have the ducks gone?


Thick and heavy snow

keeps the customers away

from our warm refuge.


Lines between kink and

consent: adults doing what

he did is o.k.?


My dad beat and raped

me for a little less than

half of my lifespan.


More than grief, anger,

or sorrow, I feel the fear

leftover from them.


My panic causes

panic in others; in those

I care about… fuck.


I walk in circles

remembering old tap steps

from Cal Hi dance class.



on my part, or it’s under

re-action on theirs.


Maybe I am the

problem. Maybe it’s not worth

being as open.


Writing morbid things

makes me feel better. How does

that make any sense?



I confronted my

coworker about yelling.

Made for a good shift.



bamboo mats make sushi rolls

tight, right, and pretty.


Fried food looks better

than it tastes, and I’m always

so disappointed.


Onions rehydrate

in steaming miso broth. The

seaweed can stretch out.


I need a red dress

for big money drop-offs and

gun-fire chases.



The deep blue after

sunset, before moonrise, is

my favorite part.


“What’s unattractive?”

A guy has a thing that you

like. Like a beard.”

-Emma + Charlene


Breaking Bad is on.

Everyone loves this show, but

I didn’t get it.



Fried dough and honey

makes my morning taste like home.

I miss New Orleans.


Camel cigarettes

and Crown Royal; mediums

to paint my father.


Imagine a world

made of plastic layers, no

dirt or green in sight.


Standing at work with

nothing to do is easy

if I smoke before.


The whole sushi bar

is captivated by a

movie on TV.


If I wrote what I

knew, I would end up writing

nothing. Piles of it.


It makes me sad

to watch movies get edited

for TV viewing.



My boss told me that

I’m washing my hands too much.

I work with raw fish.

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