An appetizer for infinitehaiku vol 3 and other surprises
this slick mud
on my good shoes
ruins the rug
singing like birds
only not in any key
and Bon Jovi
stapled paper
found in my driveway
something forgotten
light on the ice
solid, slippery mass
hurting my eyes
dry hands
in desperate need of gloves
or maybe spring
I’ve been doing a newish series of zines called infinitehaiku and this was a small cycle that didn’t fit but I enjoyed enough to share.
methodical call
dial tone bleating call sign
save this sinking ship
look over the waves
at sea, no shoreline in sight
at the tide’s mercy
preserver preserved
only room for one of us
you will see this through.
I think the title says it all.
Today's prompt. I chose to write about Don Delillo's Cosmopolis.
This guy, he's rich? How rich is he? We're talking "buy the future and send everyone a postcard about how it now belongs to him" rich.
This guy, he's riding around the city in a limousine and he wants a haircut. What kind of haircut? Not really important here, probably something that involves the dreaded "product" to style though. Product is a four letter word in your house. I have my reasons. He might pay someone to do the styling daily. Perhaps there is a machine that will do it at cost. Stuff us normal shills can only dream of, that's this guy's proverbial "artisan bread and free-range butter." Free-range butter. Yeah, kid, think big.
He's also wanted dead by...someone. Why? You know, I don't remember, but probably because someone is jealous of his limousine and his robot hair device. That's no reason to kill anyone, well, most people. I didn't say that was fair, I'm just telling you that it's a wild world out there.
You know, I think it's time for a quick haiku interlude:
Dreams of wealth, new
Give us a little off the
top, where's my foot rub?
You call that a haiku?
Sometimes the bird cries
Wake us from autumnal snores,
Sometimes it's winter.
That was beautiful. I'm fighting back tears. Thanks, I am openly sobbing myself.
Well, look, I should probably talk about the rapper too. This story has everything, huh? I guess so, but I don't remember that much of it anymore. The memory hole took most of it, that and all of the nightmare that was my divorce and the subsequent fight about who kept our DIY arboretum. I would've killed to keep that arboretum; it really completed the neighborhood. Well, yes, but then I'd have to reconcile that with the Lord. I'm not sure I want to do that. You know, this story, I don't think it had haikus though. We've got one up on it right now. That's something, isn't it?
I'd say it is.
Slow, rambling river.
Flashes of gentle rapids;
A brief flash of white.
