like a record needle @269rpms
the notes wash the days away like a sip
of tea or the blink of a squirrel
lawns of yawns surround the library
winds blow thru the brick
turning book pages into dinosaurs
how much time is wasted programming people
when love lasts but a ripple?
picking out a tombstone playing on
a trombone music mosaic myth
grave dirt soft
time is a threat we hold in our throats, sour
milk. why surrender?
why be haiku?
1986
Kansas
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