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Haikuesday, June 4th, 2013
rear-view mirror suns
recall one-point perspectives
when songs were simple
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Haikuesday, May 28th, 2013
sweat-streaked red forehead
shoulders swell from overuse
shins bruised by rocks thrown
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Haikuesday, May 7th, 2013
this day without you;
the twinge felt on a doorstep,
with keys locked inside
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Haikuesday, April 30th, 2013
waveform crests and troughs
these frequencies; vibrations
amplify, silence
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Haikuesday, April 23rd, 2013
the next time we meet
I’ll do things to you that would
make our mothers blush
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Haikuesday, April 9th, 2013
Marimekko walls
wire chairs, with swirly cushions
bay window backlight