The Cliché: "l'haiku un jour"
The tragedy of haiku as weapons, wielded once a day by a B.
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Saturday, January 17, 2015
1916.
The dust kisses the
window corners and drapes the
room, a disused shroud.
Friday, January 16, 2015
1915.
The larval remains
of a regurgitated
heart lays twitching here.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
1914.
The bruise of winter's
shade reaches out its hungry
fingers. Consuming.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
1913.
She speaks softly, barbs
daggering cynicism
into blind minions.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
1912.
A beautiful game,
charades and sleights of hands, met
under love's regard.
Monday, January 12, 2015
1911.
A room of hollow
ears and empty hearts, cast in
bare abandonment.
Sunday, January 11, 2015
1910.
A silhouette, left
as the only evidence
of what once remained.
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