Michael Klam: California Poets Part 11, Five Poems

Michael Klam

October 20th, 2026

California Poets: Part XI

Michael Klam

Five Poems

Ta-ku (taco haiku)

our lives fall apart

like crispy chalupas so

try the soft tacos

Spaghetti Factory Pasta-ku (penne haiku)

The server is so

fake, even the free ice cream

feels like suffering.

Wabi Sabi

all the OGs and all the gas guzzlers

rotting in all those driveways

one flat tire

one broken mirror

Wabi Sabi!

it once cost me $650

to replace a window motor

on an old car that I eventually

donated to KPBS

hope in impermanence

beauty in imperfections

cracks in pots, wrinkles in paper

aging… all a blessing

and then there’s Michiko

my elder dream girl across the street…

Michiko rocks my entire world view

she is sexy

and the leaves fallen

and the stucco cracked

and the fence needs paint

or does it?

but that hillside

that coastline...

when the cliff fell

and the mudslide bloomed on the rocks

I felt an equal amount of awe and terror

and love for the Earth’s way

of destruction and renewal all at once

I’ve said hello to Michiko

only a handful of times

over the years

I’ll never paint the fence

someday

I’ll wither away faster

than every other day

hopefully

Surfer

She said, “I’m your wife,

and the ocean’s your girlfriend.”

I had to say yes.

i was a terrible altar boy

i don’t think it was my fault though

because frankly

it was organically impossible

for me to pay attention

at that age

(even now).

so when i was eleven and left in charge

of the long-handled collection basket

i’d stretch it down the aisle…

and space out…

i’d forget the mission entirely 

and hold the money tray for too long 

in front of some poor sinner who had

no intention of dropping

any more coins in the coffer

but the pause and the silence

would torture him and his entire row

until i woke up and carried on.

i was a terrible altar boy.

the clergy made me sit in the front row

with my fellow acolytes whose names

have evaporated over the years

like the prayers and the sermons.

they positioned us off to the side

right in front of the door to the rectory

which was made of birch

and apparently

birch knots look surprisingly

like vaginas.

so i spent much of my tenure

as a servant of god

staring into these elliptic

figures, these cosmic portals,

wondering what it would be like 

to climb inside.

was it dangerous in there?

would i find the light?

or... on the other side...

was this where the shadows devoured

the darkness and made smoky little angel

babies and fire monkeys and dragons

or whatever was going on

in the book of revelation?

i was a terrible altar boy…

and the priest knew it

and so did my mom.

she would pinch me and scold me

and then forgive me

because that was the way it was.

i never feared the devil once

when i was a kid.

not then, not now.

the church opened my mind to everything but

the lord, who also, so i’m told, forgives me.

although from time to time i wake up

still believing in science and for about

two shakes of a lamb’s tail

i worry that i’ll go blind from a RAINBOW

that has been hung as a SIGN

and that it won’t be WATER

but FIRE next time!

Author Bio:

Michael Klam is associate publisher of the San Diego Poetry Annual. He is editor-in-chief of the bilingual edition of SDPA. Klam hosts San Diego Central Library’s Conversations with Poets. His books include Anything for a Dull Moment (Garden Oak Press: 2020), The Cheapest Flight to Paradise (Puna Press: 2017), and Emma and the Buddha Frog (Puna Press: 2007). His latest is Stay There (Garden Oak Press: 2026).