"the haiku just feels too predictable to me with a lot of poems about the moon or the river; the use of season words feels cliché to me; inevitably a carp appears. a bell rings. there are clouds & butterflies. sunlight shines through leaves. ho fucking hum. I need poems with an edge. otherwise I don't get poem shiver. plenty of excellent poets love the form though. hell, what do I know, I love anchovies, pornography & sports movies." -- Amanda Earl, from her blog
http://www.amandaearl.blogspot.ca/2012/03/poetry-talk-with-amanda-earl.html
"legs ninety wide, moons, to a man --
duh! -- gives hard edge, a woman,"
he wouldn't carp, "butterflies belled out"
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Seasonal complaints.
Haiku's withered, Memoirs Of
A Geisha sucked so bad.
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