As I continue to indulge my newfound passion for haiku (incidentally, February is National Haiku Writing Month, which you can read more about here), I have continued to purchase books in and about the genre.
Gurga, Lee. Haiku: A Poet’s Guide. Rev. Ed. Lincoln: Modern Haiku, 2013.
As I have begun writing haiku I have been feeling the need for more formal instruction aside from what I can glean from simply reading a lot of them. From what I’ve read of Gurga’s work in journals and anthologies his innovative aesthetic is similar to mine, thus I think reading his guide will be helpful. I bought the book directly from Modern Haiku Press, and I am impressed with their customer service because it took less than a week for the book to get to me.
Janeczko, Paul B., ed. Stone Bench in an Empty Park. New York: Orchard, 2000.
This is an anthology of city haiku. While I have been enjoying the way that getting into haiku has helped me to think more about nature and my relationship with it, I consider myself a city person at heart, and thus I look forward to learning more about how urban space can be portrayed in the genre. I was able to find a copy of the book in good condition for a penny from one of amazon.com’s network of independent booksellers.
Ketchek, Michael. Who I Am. Ed. Tom Clausen. Rochester: Free Food, 2015.
I read a review of this book, Ketchek’s greatest hits, in Modern Haiku and really liked the sample haiku reproduced there, so decided to buy it. I read through the collection last week and enjoyed it immensely. I especially appreciate the wide-ranging subject matter of Ketchek’s work. There are very traditional haiku about nature as well as more innovative poems about subjects such as baseball, chess, sex, and social activism. I bought the book directly from Free Food Press.
Ketchek, Michael, and David Tilley. Buzzard Haiku. Rochester: Free Food, 2013.
This small chapbook of haiku about vultures was sent to me free along with my order of Ketchek’s collection. I appreciate the slight, ephemeral nature of the volume–I almost threw it out with the large envelope that Who I Am came in, thinking it was a packing slip. The book’s form asserts that no poem is too insignificant to be immortalized in print.