The Mezunian

Die Positivität ist das Opium des Volkes, aber der Spott ist das Opium der Verrückten

October Commeth (TUS PASATIEMPOS CONSISTÍAN EN EL EXTRAÑO Y RETORCIDO Y PERTURBADO Y ME ENCANTA ESO JUEGUITO QUE HABÍAS LLAMADO «GRITAR RAYO»)

I saw it in the warmly cool cast o’ cobalt,

spreading its sparks ‘cross the sizzling sands o’ clouds,

folded into a thousand gowns

with candied drool dripping from its hungry mouth.

On damp noons,
Jack without his light,
still smiling.

I caught it in the pumpkin-colored pine needles spread ‘cross the streets,

rubbing gainst the off-black concrete

& the black puddles o’ oiled grease

swimming in burnt-brown leaves.

In acid lakes
peanut butter rows
sour apples.

Where the torrents make the maples blush mulberry grape

while others crouch back into the shadows powdry gray.

A leaf slaps its hand on the stain-smudged chalky pavement

so hard the blood rushes to half its otherwise anemic digits

till unexpectedly the gusts shoos it ‘way.

¡O, I’m dumb!
I almost forgot
the mushrooms.

When the natsu no tsuki makes way for the aki no tsuki to come,

cut bloody crescent cold,

spirit-snatching owled-eye beacon,

its drenched-blade forests feeding mold

till the trees & cities are splattered with orange,

& collections o’ bright colors captured by candies foraged.

& now we can forgive

winter’s cold,

spring’s drops,

& summer’s burns—

Now finally can my ol’ props be unearthed;

time to pull red crops for all they’re worth.

Now so stuffed with
so much sand worms,
fin’lly, it’s time
for just desserts.

Posted in Haiku, Senryu y amigos, Poetry