Roberta Beary
My Father Loves Me Wrong When
he’s blotto
tanked up
sloshed
tight
lopsided moon
he’s soused
pie-eyed
tipsy
boozy
a bottle of bourbon
he’s lit
well oiled
plastered
hammered
beside his ashes
he’s wasted
loaded
wrecked
stewed
About the Author
Roberta Beary is the longtime haibun editor of Modern Haiku. Born in Queens, New York, they identify as gender fluid and divide their time between the USA and Ireland. They are the co-author, with Lew Watts and Rich Youmans, of Haibun: A Writer’s Guide (Ad Hoc Fiction, 2023). Their fourth collection, Carousel, is now available from Snapshot Press.
Painful memories.
yes, but they’re all grist for the haibun mill!
There’s so much to participate with in this enjoyable, unconventional haibun. The left-sided, poetic repetition of well-known words for drinking–for “loves me wrong when”–turns those words into something else entirely, a startling litany, a lifetime diary of sorrow and waste. And this series of words also extends the lyric, forceful, energy of the very intriguing and original title, so that the title becomes a kind of chant extending into the main body of the haibun. And the way RB nestles the three lines of the haiku along the right side of the page, stretching its beautiful and startling impact across the page–is also very effective; the wordless, spatial dimension of this haibun is fresh and effective. And then there’s the stunning haiku itself, which contains and illuminates a life and a death, with a woeful, passionate, clear-eyed honoring of both, even amidst all the “wrong.” There is something triumphant about this haibun; it’s a kind of wake. And a wonderful example of making/remaking the malleable and remarkable haibun form. Thank you, RB!
Thank so much, Bill, both for your close read and insightful commentary!