A Redditor in my broadcast, u/subsuburban, asked for a haiku, based on the prompt 'curfew'. I told them, naturally, that despite my love of haiku I did not think I could compose one under pressure, so I offered a tercet instead. Below is the product.
Curfew Tercet
Easy to sleep aware
government is endangering -
strangers past twelve.
At the start of my broadcast I wrote the first line of the poem below, and after the tercet I typed about the next few lines. Finished it up the following afternoon. I think this whole post could be safely deposited in the Oswald file.
The Pain's Worse than the Hangover, Ye
Got myself a nearly full bowl and a heavy heart
plus a keyring to a dumpster behind the Chortle
Shuttle: a humanitarian centipede always tap
prancing on big shots; a heedless bivouac, clammy
hands across the nation. The think tank with that
awful slogan: WHEN ANY OF US PUBLISHES
WE ALL PUBLISH - what a crockpot. I fired
my last editor with buckshot then subscribed to
Eurydice's OnlyFans & she turned to a pillar of salt.
I used it to ganish coffee where I work. Got tipped
by bacon in a big truck, took a smoke break and
the sun was lime under the Green Line. Returned
back to work in time to discover I had lost my
sense of commerce. It's hard to work for tips
after the jury ordered just deserts.
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