No matter how despicable the mire
in which we find ourselves, there’s always hope.
Just raise your eyes – a sunny upper slope
is beckoning. We hanker. We aspire.
Caruso, Bluto, Joe Dimaggio –
then, afternoons were easy. Men were men.
Those certainties will never come again.
We’re exiled from the dear, dead long ago.
Forever prancing forward, harking back,
we don’t suppose This Moment will be missed.
But life is Monitor or Merrimack:
trajectories seem smooth, but have a twist.
The train is what’s important, not the track:
the Present’s where we happen to exist.
More of Horn Horrendous Haiku
new account create
we found success in our fate
and then celebrate
had been incumbent
of entire government
not sure what they meant
while we had been cursed
scenario which was worst
like a bubble burst
after hard had tried
always let God be my guide
He kept me in stride
errors in report
what we did as last resort
mission would abort
what we always dred
had raised interest rate by fed
stopped using club med
cleaning section meet
and again we may repeat
wipe off toilet seat
they could quarantine
best for people always mean
betwixt and between
chickens re raising
large egg production praising
really amazing
must try to relate
After we will immigrate
then did consumate
would try to elude
while we had been very crude
being in the nude
quiet with no sound
was agony all around
fear there we had found
money may be cheap
up stock market prices creep
counted some more sheep
we then took a tour
merrimack and monitor
loved each one for sure
Jim Horn
"In the distance the city lights illuminate the clouds amber in color, hovering as if in midthought, above its subconscious everflow, reflecting its gift on the still waters of the Merrimack below. While tracing her voluptuous contours, a silhouette of surrounding evergreens frame the beautiful forms of this 'Motherly' Masterpiece, revealing a secret only few will ever know." ~Sealion
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