Haiku for the Dead Canto XI

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Jason Wells Jason Wells crispy neurons crispyneurons writing papers poetry article essay haiku for the dead

Translated by John Sphere and Jason Strain


Canto I | Canto II | Canto III | Canto IV | Canto V | Canto VI | Canto VII | Canto VIII | Canto IX | Canto X | Canto XI | Canto XII | Canto XIII | Canto XIV | Canto XV | Canto XVI | Canto XVII | Canto XVIII | Canto XIX | Canto XX | Canto XXI | Canto XXII | Canto XXIII


[edit] Canto XI

How many
Teddy loamy fatal wa-wa
Musty a man?

ISO tired.
Hey bb,
Be knid to me.

Hey Mr. Tambourine man,
Play a song for me.
No, here, use this one.

The neighbors are coming!
Don't fire until
You can see the motes in their eyes.

Wordsworth? Hemmingway.
Locke? Vonnegut.
Wittgenstein? Janson.

As the duckling
As the seasons turn, surmounts;
You're still fucking ugly.

The white tube,
A moment of pleasure,
Suck me till I burn out.

War is expensive
Peace is priceless
Bumper stickers are $1.50.

Chewy and delightful,
Greasy, with crennelated papyrus,
The spongy softness tempts me.

I can buy
Corporate McFactory Enslavement
For only 59 cents.


Next canto...


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