Random New York Times Article Title, Now in Haiku Form
St. Martin After Irma: The Beaches Are Dazzling but There’s Work to Do The beaches ~ dazzling, but there is work to do.
St. Martin After Irma: The Beaches Are Dazzling but There’s Work to Do The beaches ~ dazzling, but there is work to do.
On the road home from groceries, our poet encountered a sunrise… Occhio per occhio rende tutto il mondo cieco No photos 🙁 ~ camera hibernates deep in spring. Tramonto in marzo… il tempo sicuramente vola Spring sunset ~ its sexiness is always ending. Suonare sullo sfondo Mountains whose orange is a bit grayer in the […]
Now here we have our March in all its slimy splendor, when celedon sky’s tears rust tree debris runny red, when the sky’s iron fist conducts all greenry to reach out every tentacle claw o’er all, & rise, the leaves, the weeds, the vines & ivy, the brambles & inedible berries — when nature’s fetid […]
Death is in the air this rainy March, but the march must keep marching, & e’er mo’ verses must be added to the death death devil devil devil evil evil songs so long as there are balloons left unpopped. We can thank Mozilla’s new Pocket integration that pops up every time I open a new […]
Accompanying music Kalter, regnerischer Morgen ~ verzicht auf cremigen Kaffee für bitteren Tee.
Accompanying music Il cielo marches in by 3 drips… While a lovely month like February gets left to die, its son, March, trudges on into the storm, an orphan child. It drinks up such harsh weather, knowing it needs it to grow green — Proof o’ the sad socialism o’ reality. Also leiht die Vereinigung […]
While a cold, heartless month like January gets to stuff its face with 31 whole days, ¿a lovely month like February only gets 28 — & maybe 29 when there’s an extra crumb? Proof o’ the cruel capitalism o’ reality. Bleak & cold gray morns warm my heart ~ month o’ love. Im Schatten des […]
Brisk morn ~ 1,000,000 smooth rocks. ¿How am I s’posed to touch them all?
( Note: due to internet outages, this poem comes 1 week after the event ). Accompanying music Sunday morn in peace ~ lone, pieces fall together. February snow. Sunday day in pieces ~ e’en the tree I’ve known fore’er falls dead. Not so silly anymo’ ~ a fir’s yellow scarf. Me dejaste aquí como un […]
Cosy sheets, cosy lamp, cosy clipped fingernails.