A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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June 2005, vol 1 no 1

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Helen Ruggieri, USA

America Lost

In front of the casino two Seneca braves are having their picture taken by a tourist wearing four inch wedgies. I roll my eyes at the one on the left. He kissed me once behind the bleachers after a softball game. It was a full body kiss, like you do when you don't know how, grabbing someone and pressing against them hard until you run out of breath. He gives me a Groucho google. She's clicks off her shot and hands the camera to the other guy. Luke puts his arm around her and pulls her close. They're both laughing. A dragon tattoo coils around his left bicep. His black Stetson is tipped forward, his ponytail hangs down his back She is squeezed under his right arm, her breasts against his red tanktop. Someone wins inside. There's yelling over the hum of the slots. The van stops and I climb aboard. I turn and look back but his face is hidden by the brim of his hat. On the hill behind the casino there's a slash of raw brown earth where a new motel will sit.

the quick brown fox runs
over the raw brown earth -
jet trail halves the sky

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