haiku 19 Aug 2018

Eating fingernails

Does as much as drinking ground

Rhinoceros horn

[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]

haiku 30 Jan 2018

Drinking mist and sun
Eating but cast-off debris
The epiphyte thrives

[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ] ​

child goes pirate

Following his preschool's staging of “Pirate Day” during its last few sessions before the beginning of summer, the parents of four year old Woodland Hills, California native Kyl Ussuf Stonezyphr awoke in their own bed to find their grog-addled son standing over them with a knife clenched tightly between his teeth. While they had been alarmed the day before when – just before his nap-time – he waxed poetically, expounding upon a burning, insatiable desire “to pillage the nicer houses in the neighborhood, and perhaps to have my way with either Frank, or Francine (teenage, non-fraternal twins who live nearby), or the both of them,” Kyl's parents are debating whether to guide this, their third child, onto a different life-path or to accept and love him as he is, regardless of his rapine, lustful ways. “We don't think that there is much of a future in piracy,” Kevin Stonezyphr, Kyl's dad, said wearily. “But,” interjected Bettina Michaels-Stonezyphr, Kyl's super-attentive mother, while doing her best not to make eye-contact with anyone, “we agree that he has the right to choose any path in this life that he should think is best, and that there are piracy hot-spots all over the globe: at either end of the Strait of Malacca, off the coast of Somalia, and around the Strait of Hormuz.” Interrupting our conversation to investigate the source of such hammering as seemed to be coming from the rear of the house, the Stonezyphrs discovered that Kyl had not only crucified a stray dog to the rear garage door but that he had consumed so much of its blood as to make him sick to his little stomach. As punishment, they locked away his tools, and took steps to cancel the family's plans to go on a nice, leisurely Caribbean cruise later in the year.

場黑麥 menterefecterem fecit

Man, 34, “Sees clearly, now.”

In the wake of his first ever solo spring-cleaning (during which, however, according to a subsequent eye-witness report, only a few of the dirtiest windows were washed, and only some portions of the wall-to-wall carpet received a merely mediocre vacuuming), Darius Gordon Crickleburg, 34, of Waynesboro, NC, finished feeding the spring-loaded electrical cord into the built-in storage compartment of his brand new vacuum-cleaner, and stepped back to view his handiwork. “The rains are gone, now, and I can see clearly. It all seems so much nicer – all the plants look so much more green, and my house is no longer a total pigsty. I believe I shall write a song about this monumental event in my life,” Mr. Crickleburg said as he settled into the reclining lounge chair he had moved to the garage some years earlier, during the last, then-wife-assisted spring cleaning, and never retrieved. “Look at that,” he continued, pointing out of the window at a house across the street. “I can see Mrs. Chuhsin-Handell's house very well, and all of her begonias look so colorful, and pretty.”

Before said monumental event, very little light penetrated into the dark, dank recesses of Darius' double-wide home, which, since his wife left him last fall for a female shipping clerk from Spokane, has been but infrequently kept up. “The last six months, since Rachel left, have been rough, but the dark clouds seem to be gone, and I don't feel quite as down on my luck as I did before. It looks to be a bright day, outside, a day of abundant sunshine. It is as if I can see all obstructions, all obstacles, that stand in my path, and I can not only see them, I know how to surmount them – what to do about them.” Things continued to look up, and to run smoothly throughout the day, until sunset, however, when Mr. Crickleburg purchased a case of beer from the corner store, and fell to drinking.

場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit