2024年08月07日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 660th. week

On the pathetic scene, a burp by the cat, the curtain comes down.
Done a moonlight flit, for a bear left behind, fed on.
At the confessional, to know sort of her truth, I don't wanna. Or, in National Diet, to know sort of her truth, I don't wanna.
Towards to the womb, led by ants, a dream I dreamed.
Of the shaman, weeping on his back, is a homunculus. Or, of the shaman, weeping on his back, a homunculus tattoo there.

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