Now is the winter of our discontent made mild by global warming. First pick your theme. It could be Westerns, a bottle of Tuborg, a Rhinemaiden, Hotel California or Tiananmen Square. Add a hint of Tom Wolfe, Ken Kesey and Mark Twain. Chop your logic finely. Add a pinch of sage and grass. Stir in a dash each of paradox, metaphor, dilemma, anaphora, assonance and double entendre. Alliterate well and serve with koans and gnomic utterances. The result is a wordfest. An atomic poem. A verbal explosion, a journey of 10,000 haiku that begins with the a ride hitched on the back of a weirdly constructed ontic omnibus. Here, words are cut into atoms and reassembled, always craftily, into the fine-sounding five-seven-five seventeen syllables of the haiku no ku. Stuart Reed was born in 1946 in Bircotes, England, and for the last thirty years or so has been living on a kibbutz in Israel, where he has spent most of his time practising writing haiku and being an ambulatory peripatetic. There are...

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