2014年04月30日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 106th. week vol. 1

At this night wriggling of us, runnel of sweat on your skin, my spit running parallel to.
Runs round and round merry-go-round, running to make this ring dance and around.
An only child he is, though not to see Mt. Fuji, tries to compare heights with. Or, an only child he is, though not to exist with two as the same, tries to compare heights with.
With my sin, to try to smash under one's foot, this tissue box.
In a phantom town I’m there, dare to persist, the pseudo-haiku-poet does.

posted =oyo= : 04:20 | comment (0) | trackBack (0) | The Lion Sleeps Tonight