I dig poetry.
One of my favorites is haiku.
Haiku is a form of Japanese poetry. Three lines. Usually 17 syllables., but that’s not carved
in stone. The essential characteristic of haiku is that it juxtaposes two
images or ideas in such a way as it cuts,
like a katana through a pile of dried cow patties, right to a zen
revelation of truth in the way those two elements are related,
Not a lot of people know it, but my ex-hometown, Chicago,
has its own native poetry.
Much like a haiku, it juxtaposes two ideas, or concepts or images,
and then offers a terse punch-line, sometimes a single word, to condense volumes of exposition and
description down to an “essence,” that
hits you a truth about the relationship of those two ideas, concepts or images,
like a short uppercut to the solar plexus.
It the verse of the underdog, the losers in love, the down-trodden.
The
rich snits?
They’ve got sonnets and iambic pentameter.
No offense, Will.
Chi-town “haiku” is named for the last line of a famous
example:
Lies and greed and bloody deeds
You say love it or leave it.
Fuck you.
Here are a few more examples of Fukiyu poetry.
Election time
Who’s the lesser evil?
Motherfuckery for sale.
Unarmed man shot in the back
Cops claim fear for their lives.
Bullshit.
Autopsy, witnesses and videotape.
Cop still skates.
What the fuck?
My squeeze and him.
She says they’re friends.
Dump her.
Some of his best friends are
black.
And he never owned slaves.
Sheet’s in the wash.
Black man in the White House.
Nothing changes.
House negro.
The government said so.
They wouldn’t do that.
Seen any Indians around here lately?
Got
some Fukiyu you’d like to share?
Lay
it on me.
sj
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