It turns out I misremembered yesterday’s poem (not the haiku, the other one). It’s by Ginsberg (in the middle, above; Neal Cassidy is second from left) and I first read it in The Little Zen Companion. Yes, I own The Little Zen Companion. I’ll admit it.
What’s this little brown insect
walking zig-zag
across the sunny white page
of Su Tung-po’s poem?
Fly away, tiny mite, even your life
is tender–
I lift the book and blow you into
the dazzling void.