Fanny Pack I learn it is worn around the waist, perched on the buttocks. In other words it’s a bum bag, something for carrying small things, like fags. I have an urge to tell her that where I come from the word fanny is slang for vagina, but I remain silent—some things are better left unsaid. oysters the taste of the sea in her hair Published: Modern Haiku, Summer 2016, vol. 47.2
A haiku selection wild juniper the way she was after gin Published: bottle rockets, issue 34, February 2016 between two mirrors eventually I become my father Published: Modern Haiku, Summer 2016, vol. 47.2 no wake zone drifting off to the creak of oarlocks Published: A Hundred Gourds, vol. 5.3, June 2016 recounting her vertebrae— the midnight silence of never Published: Frogpond, vol. 39.2, 2016 waning moon each night more dust on her dinner plate Published: Modern Haiku, Winter 2016, vol. 47.3
Note for File: Non-Work Related Fatality When I said I had to let you go I should have said I want to let you go, that all along I knew that holding on to you was wrong, that you would never grow beyond a nine-to-five. I had a strong belief that there was somewhere you belonged, somewhere where your lollygagging mind could thrive. So when you simply said “Doggone ...” and rolled your head, you almost seemed resigned, composed, as though you knew your life was mine to use and cast aside. But then a reckless tear druzed from your eye and it was time to call Security—who came and checked that you left the building, your face still perplexed as they led you past the sign that read “We pride ourselves in being a weapons-free Texas office.” When they turned their back you’d pried your gun loose from the rack and knelt beside the truck, your eyes wide and terrified. Each night I greet the black veil of a bride.
Lew Watts was born and raised in Cardiff, Wales, and educated at the universities of Bristol and Reading, earning a First Class honors degree and a PhD, respectively. After working in Europe, Scandinavia, the Middle East, and Africa, he moved to the US in 2002.
His poetry has featured in many journals and anthologies, and his first collection—Lessons for Tangueros, about the experience of learning to dance Argentinian tango—appeared in 2011. His first novel, Marcel Malone, was published October 2016 by Red Mountain Press.
He is incoming Vice Chair of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, sits on several corporate boards, and received an honorary Doctorate from Bristol University in 2016. He lives in Santa Fe and Chicago.