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A Hundred Gourds 2:2 March 2013
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page 7  

Chen-ou Liu - Canada


Passion
                                   for Billy Collins


half a haiku
the morning
already ancient

I wake from my nap screaming. In the dream, my half-naked poem is nailed to the cross, surrounded by a cheering crowd. A critic begins beating it with a hose, trying to torture a confession of its meaning from it. My poem cries out in anguish.

midnight moon
the only thing moving
my right hand




line

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