Simply Haiku: A Quarterly Journal of Japanese Short Form Poetry
About Simply Haiku
Spring 2009, vol 7 no 1
Searching For Casablanca
"It's ... that mysterious city ... where things are new and strange, the place where something interesting can happen to you ... Some part of Casablanca is the lovely dark-haired lady who beckons from the doorway." ~Eric Wright
Chris and I are up on a crisp morning to begin a two-week excursion to the Canyon Country of Southern Utah, some 1400 miles south. In Idaho, high winds have downed power lines that block the highway. The police direct us into the small town of Duncan. Stuck for the night, we walk the main street in search of a pool table. In the first bar, a haze of cigarette smoke floats in the neon light. The patrons lean on their tables, hands cupped to their drinks, looking inert, as if they are part of a dark, still life tableau. No dark-haired lady here.
smell of stale beer—
the slow turn
of ceiling fans
At the end of the street, we find the Carlisle, a once elegant four-story hotel. While shooting pool at a patched table, I recount a trip to Hull, Quebec with a friend who insisted on taking me to a strippers' bar. For a small fee, a young woman just skirting anorexia danced on our table. After an overlong period of watching her lifeless gyrations and feeling increasingly awkward at having her shaved pelvis circling directly over my beer, I told my friend that I was ready to leave.
"Why so early?"
Because Casablanca is about a dark-haired femme fatale, not a skinny adolescent controlled by tattooed pimps in a room filled with depressed men. And, like Wright's character, David, I've never wanted a woman that I would have to pay for.
"My Casablancas come as a surprise," I tell Chris.
I remember guiding a group of hikers in the Northern Rocky Mountains. One evening, I caught a glimpse of Jenny leaving the sweat lodge that we had built on the grassy banks of a stream. She had the pearly skin of a redhead and a blush of rust below her belly. The next day, she hiked with me and said: "I dreamed about you last night."
"Yeah ... good dreams?"
"Very good. We were kissing in a meadow."
on the Southwest horizon
Chris' voice breaks my reverie: "Quit daydreaming and shoot the bloody ball!"
Ray Rasmussen's haiku, haiga, haibun and articles have been accepted for publication in Modern Haiku, Frogpond, Contemporary Haibun, Heron's Nest, Simply Haiku, Bottle Rockets, Haibun Today, Haigaonline, Contemporary Haibun Online, Roadrunner, Tinywords, Haiku Harvest, The World Haiku Review, Lynx and Ink Sweat & Tears. Ray designed the Contemporary Haibun Online web site and serves as technical editor. His web page designs are currently used by Simply Haiku and Roadrunner haiku journals. He has served as haiga editor for Simply Haiku and haibun editor for the World Haiku Review. Ray dreamed that in a previous life he was a university professor.
Copyright 2009: Simply Haiku