Global Haiku • Spring 2022
Dr. Randy Brooks

Rotten Fruit

by
Nicholas Canton

Nicholas Canton comes from Los Angeles, California and writes about his life growing up. His haiku give an eerie feeling. He explains almost perfect scenes that are followed by insightful more liberal lines. I wanted to focus on my more difficult and questionable moments in life. I hope these haiku help these haiku help those in these situations such as dealing with parents, sexuality, and change. These take place in very specific moments but I intend for every reader to be immersed in my experiences and translate them into their own.

the smell of sweet
rotting fruit
children run and laugh

I THOUGHT
EVERY DAD WROTE
IN CAPITAL LETTERS

charcoal
on the tips of my finger
a smudge left in an empty room

staring competition:
a blank sheet of paper
an artist

piles of fire wood
that's wet
we can't have this conversation right now

fire embers dance in the wind
a shaking smile
dad tells me he's proud

country backroad
the pebbles hitting the car
are telling a story

charcoal shrieking
across the paper
again and again

fermentation
fingertips rubbing my eyes
I don't want to hear that

last day of senior year
the car door closes
my mom knows my secret

bitten nails
asking another question
parasitism

deep-rooted cypress trees
bowing down
in front of the cathedral

wildflowers sprouting
a red wasp
disrupts time

snow in my shoes
my feet blue
I can't tell her

skipping rocks
across the pond
it's frozen