For Myself, Mostly

(Being a Canada Dry Mistranslation of four haikus by Yosa Buson)

Nontotient
non-existent, the last one here
paddling some trivial hidden
under the bright night sky

Not Found
old man’s breath hot down
chicken thighs
sweat shone with summer

Sophie Germain
Jewish early birds–
a hair of mine is a fallen star
plucked before soft rhyme forms

With No Imaginary Part
an open-gate width further
I too am a hobo
of the yawn of this orange day

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