A blog in honor of Ernest Hemingway's continual search for the perfect sentence. Now in a new and improved haiku format!
The detonation
of our inalienable rights
is the real fireworks
You spirit wrestlers
who grapple with God will tap out,
bruised but no wiser
Dead gods once wept for
lost worshipers dwindled down
to a few sad souls
Fatuous flunkies,
debt-ridden and deprived, wave
their frayed little flags
In a world gone to
hell your baptism of fire
is but a burnt match
A black squirrel shakes
the tree limb til berries fall
for its waiting kin
Cherish mementos
of these brief moments shared with
no one but ourselves