We’re
chippin’ at the moon with an old bone.
Issa
and his sister chip until the moon is gone.
An
endless row of wagons in the snow,
Issa
grabs his sister says "c’mon let’s go ‘cause --
Yeah,
I think I’ll write a haiku.
Well,
you know as well as I do,
You
gotta, gotta have a high IQ.
So
eat this and have a cup of tea."
Widow
lighting lamps at cock crow.
Sengai
stamps to help his blood flow.
From
his brush figures rush,
In
the middle sits a poet
Almost
smothered, almost crushed, crying --
"Yeah,
I think I'll write a haiku...
Well,
you know as well as I do,
You
gotta, gotta have a high IQ.
So
eat this and have a cup of tea."
(Systole,
diastole
Dealing
with the parts but
Feeling
with the whole.)
Yo!
Han
Shan's tears, small worlds.
Resting
on their spears, The warlords.
In
the wood a drop of blood
Hits
an inky pond which ripples as it should...
So
why don't you, don't you write a haiku?
Well,
you know as well as I do,
All
you need is a very high IQ.
NOTE: I really didn’t
expect to find myself here, but who ever does?
Stirring up the tea from the bottom. Higgs Boson hoping. Seeking suspension.
Forgetting forgetting. Sludge,
torpor. The Local Martinet and Harpy Front.
Remembering tomorrow’s to-do list.
First entry: “Forget it.”
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