The frog then leaping into
its own rippled splash.
*
old viscous cesspit:
frog leaps into dead tadpoles –
gulf, gloop! he’s sinking!
*
stuffed frog on the shelf
flops to the floor in a heap –
soft friend on the rum
*
Fool rules IKEA:
Car was Zuton bike on moon.
My zone yoyos too!
These poems come from a diary I kept between January and
April 2018. The Basho variations (the first of which I wrote some
years ago for teaching) appear in my untitled prose haibun which is now safely in a brown envelope in a drawer for a month.
This is my favourite version of the poem: by dom silvester houedard (dsh), in three words: 'pond/frog/plop' folded in one of those children's games (I don't know what they are called, but if you've ever played one, you'll recognise this. If you don't, ask somebody older.)
