"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
"legs ninety wide, moons, to a man --
duh! -- gives hard edge, a woman,"
he wouldn't carp, "butterflies belled out"