Anti-haiku
haiku
I already know what the very last haiku I'll ever
post is going to be. I've been lugging it around in
my notebook and in my head ever since I jotted it
down on March 12, 2008. At first, I didn't know it
would be the very last haiku I'd ever post. But as
I mulled over how best to present it -- spray-paint
it on the wall of police headquarters? write it in
smoke in the sky? -- it dawned on me that it would
make the perfect final haiku.
When will the day of the final haiku come I cannot
precisely say. Some days it feels like it's right
around the corner; some days it feels like it's
receding somewhere into the future, like the tide
going out. A lot depends on the mood of the moment,
the idea of being able to say something new and
different, or at least the idea of being able to
say it in a new and different way. And solar flares.
A lot depends on solar flares too.
For now, I'm content to chop words out of the newspaper
to construct this crap. It seems to feed some creative
urge -- in a primitive sort of way. Of course, this
whole business could come to a screeching halt through
absolutely no volition on my part. I mean, newspapers
could disappear off the face of the earth, just
like the dinosaurs. Given what's been happening
lately, that could occur tomorrow. Then what would
me and the kidnapers who still do their ransom notes
old school do?
Posted
06.05.09|
» MAIRA
KALMAN: Blogger Extraordinaire
bot bait: Dada, Marcel Duchamp, random words
|
The Seven Deadly Sins
I
was tagged last week by the wonderful, wondrous
amuirin at Stop
and Wander to do the Seven Deadly Sins meme.
I'm a little fuzzy on the rules, but I believe I'm
supposed to make shit up (not that I'd do otherwise).
Anyway, in keeping with tradition around here, I
will now attempt to do this in haiku.
Oh
yeah, consider your bad self tagged, but go check
out the real rules first.
pride
I
am Jack Bauer
I shoot folks and blow shit up
I never have to pee!
envy
Young
couple smooching
locked in a steamy embrace
geezus, get a room!
gluttony
Paris,
gimme some
in your bad black negligee
not the burger, bitch!
lust
coo
softly in bed
your skin tingling to my touch
oops, you're not my wife!
anger
I
don't like birds much
they shit on your car; sometimes they shit on you
tweet tweet BANG BANG
greed
I
don't need your love
don't need those stars in the sky
just need your BIG butt
sloth
I
used to do drugs
I don't do them anymore
I forget why
Posted
06.01.09|
bot
bait: paris hilton, adultery, brain damage, birdshot,
24
|
My
Messy Garage
 
Ever
see George Carlin's riff about the stuff we own?
It starts off something like: How come other people's
stuff is shit and your shit is stuff?
If
it's true that our possessions help define who we
are, then what does my garage say about me? We've
got boxes in there that were packed during a move
in 1980 and haven't been opened since. My wife claims
that a good portion of that stuff is my shit, but
I believe the bulk of the shit is her stuff. If
you have any ideas on what to do with all this stuff,
I wouldn't mind hearing them. I mean other than
1) Just dump that shit (hey, it's not shit, it's
stuff!); and 2) Hold a garage sale (what price could
we put on the shit and who would pay money for it?)
Posted
05.17.09|
»
GEORGE
CARLIN: Here's his riff on stuff.
bot bait: garage sale, shit, stuff
|
Haiku daisy chain #4
Last
line becomes your first line. Now get to it.
Pity
the poor pig
Always gets the blame
Wearing lipstick is no crime!
Posted
05.09.09|
bot
bait: pigs, lipstick, crime
|
|
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