5-7-5

So, in a moment of insanity, (I have those often, daily in fact, hardly remember them, but for some reason this one stuck with me), I decided to write heiku. Not a poem or two, but dozens, hundreds in fact. Specifically, 366 heiku poems about whatever, not necessarily nature. My insane ass plan was to self publish a little book(let) of my insane ass heikus (heiki) for 2008 to celebrate, in some insane ass way, the leap year, summer olypmics and the end of terror our current prezitwit.

Quite ambitious don't you think?

Most of my moments of insanity quickly arrive, quietly pass and life goes on. I thought this one would too, but after a few hours it was as annoying as a cold wet cat nose in your ear at 3 in the morning. The annoyance became an obession. Yes! I'll write heikus. And they will be profound, pithy, simple, elegant, humorous and abundant. Yes! Heikus as far as the eye can see!

So I dug around and found a little spiral notebook. So, there it was, a blank virgin piece of paper. I was slapped sane as soon as I folded back the front cover. What the fuck do I think I'm doing? 366 of them? That's a stupid number. It's a stupid idea.

So why am I now, five months later still writing heikus?