So newspaper print
and hazy constellations
are not all that fade.
Always I whistle
but you who are a city
will be belching oil.
Still I shall one day
let go and paint your forehead
so you know I live.
My beak it has chirped:
all crows and men are scapegoats
Quoth the haicuckoo.
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The Haiku Cuckoo has struck. For edification, the HC speaks only in H. Display picture up soon.
:D
5 comments:
As obnoxious as this may sound - I love No. 2
This admirer greets
The haicuckoo's arrival
With joy and comments.
@ mm: hahaha. thank you.
@ sroyon: arre wah.
Believe it or not, the first thing I did when I saw that these were haikus were to count the number of syllables.
More counting coming up, the Haiku Cuckoo lives.
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