my cricket hands
are cold light
fireworks exploding
a firefly
fills the tree
inside my shoe closet
long field
a long person
is sleeping there
the waterfall
of burning crickets
looks like a dead squid
a daikon
looks fine
hovering over a rock
morning fog
is absorbed
by old thick books
a construction worker
speaks with a butterfly
in a barren country road
the snake
with the haiku on
its back, is back
i imagine
having red cherry eyes
a cherry eyed oni!
for Masaoka Shiki
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bravo! i really dig what you've done here. surreal, baby, surreal.
ReplyDeleteI like it too. My daikon breaks open upon your peaceful rock, and still my legs are like daikon. I wish I could write such convincingly cool poetry. I hardly ever wish things like that any more.
ReplyDeleteThat is so weird that Masaoka Shiki played baseball (looked him up on WikiTrue). My cat is a life.
Thanks for the really totally cool poem, o phaner-o-noemikon.
P