15 Comments

  1. There comes a point in one’s life where the number of syllables ceases to matter.
    If the techincal aspect hinders the scope of truth or beauty, then it should be left by the wayside when it comes to art.
    I love it the way it is. LOVE.

  2. Middle line doesn’t have enough syllables.
    You’re right. I miscounted. But, at the same time I’m not all that particular about the rules.
    How about:
    February’s ice
    Shattering, melting away
    Just like innocence

    Uh, no…

  3. Did you know that glass is viscous. If you look at glass in buildings that are hundreds of years old you can see that it is thicker at the bottom. Over the years it has been slowly moving downward. Maybe glass WOULD like to shatter, just for the excitement. That predicates that glass has the ability to think which is kind of a stretch even for a philosophy major(of which I am not because I have a job).
    Sometimes it doesn’t seem rational, but that doesn’t make it wrong.
    Awake and bored. That’s how I found my way here and starting spouting this gibberish. At least I’m not counting the syllables in haiku at this time of the morning. Watch out or I will pull out my collection of Redneck Haiku. Okay, now you’ve done it.
    Montie B. Love
    P.S. David, Great new coffee shop up the road. Coffee or martinis some evening? Maybe with Suzanne if she is free?

  4. Oh brother squirrel,
    Your tail, my hair. We are one.
    Yet I must eat you.
    Dogs urinate where
    they so choose. And so do I.
    Red and blue lights flash.
    Brown edged tank top sticks
    to my white clumpy armpits
    Somehow I get laid.
    One day I will dip
    and race cars. Until then I
    ride my bike, chew gum.

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