Mona Lisa’s Third Eye: Twenty-five Haiku

John Sandbach

talk is cheap

but even at that

the dinosaurs have no cash


in Coco Chanel’s apartment

a giant meteor

and a puff of smoke


drifting toward sleep —

dark perfume

falling off a cliff


he rises

at night to write down

strange chords


even before

he could walk, his crib

floated on water


diamond —

a gathering

of windows


falling rain

reveals the mirrors

hid in clouds 


a treatment

for claustrophobia — to swallow

elixir of mirrors


toward my back door

slow as a glacier

a graveyard flows


a tiny uncharted island —

a place

to hide from Egypt


mummy cloth

in a few centuries

I’ll unwrap myself


to prepare

for the Sack of Rome —

tea and toast


guns grow limp

unable to get hard

they die out


changing tastes –

once-famous paintings

are melting


behind Mona Lisa’s

third eye a temple of glass

still under construction


wet or dry

the stones are happy

to be a cathedral


inside a marble head

there is no memory

of Ancient Rome


in Kansas City

in a house of glass

a banker consults an astrologer


reaching up

Gertrude Stein catches

a bird in any sky


Gertrude Stein is laughing

a ball is falling to pieces

who fly away


just when I almost

saw the wind’s face

it changed


in Antarctica

researchers hallucinate

in fields of snow


like the Great Pyramid

there are many snowflakes

I’ll never see falling


in Gertrude Stein

patterns emerge

as fish in flight


it’s too beautiful –

I cannot finish

the novel