Experimental Fusion Haiku With a Haunting Jazz Beat

TBP

Image Courtesy of The Blog Propellant

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“Is she dead, ya think?”

“Doan know. Might be, I guess… Prolly not though.”

“Why’d ya think that?”

“Look around. Ya see another one of us that looks like her anywhere?”

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“Nope”

“There ya go then!”

“Is she sleepin’, ya think?”

“Not a very comfortable place to sleep.”

“Maybe, she’s drunk. Sleepin’ it off?”

“Ohhh, we could mess with ‘er.”

“How?”

“We could dip ‘er hand in a glass o’ warm water and see if she… well you know what that’s ‘posed ta make ya do. I’m not gonna spell it out.”

“Na, that’s just mean.”

“OK, you got any ideas?”

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“Shavin’ cream!”

“What?”

“We put shavin’ cream in her hand. Fill it really full, see. Den we float around in front of her and say boo to wake her up. Then we start doing that scary stuff that ghosts do, she’ll rub her face and cover it with shavin’ cream. It’s like a pie. Get it? Oh man, this is gonna be so funny!”

“Sounds good, got any shavin’ cream?”

“No… you?”

“Huh uh”

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“Wanna get up the road some? Maybe haunt the pub?”

“Sure. She doesn’t look like much fun anyway.”

“Yeah, let’s go, then.”

“Right behind you.”

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Written in an obscure, neo-classical, form of verse known as Fusion Haiku that I am experimenting with. As far as the Jazz beat goes: think Art Blakey meets Buddy Rich. Read it a couple of times, if you have to. It’ll grow on ya, trust me!