Haikusday

Every Tuesday, until _____ I am going to post some haiku; it shall henceforth be known as HAIKUSDAY. These are by Issa. Enjoy.


How much
are you enjoying yourself,
tiger moth?


Writing shit about new snow
for the rich
is not art.


Mother I never knew,
every time I see the ocean,
every time--


The world of dew
is the world of dew.
And yet, and yet--


Why did the wild pink break?
O why
did it break?

(before this last haiku, it is noted, "On the death of my son:")