11,041 vagabonds plus:
Peel away dulled frost
Moon's shadowed pearl eye winking
Nudged heart, slow warming
Chase other Sudden haikus at
'recuerda mi corazon,' exclusive home of
Haiku My Heart
photo credit: stock photo from Bing search
the crumbs rent
'Oh, this'll do fine'.
'Very good, Mrs. Crumb'. The landlord did not make eye contact the whole time.
'Wait a moment. Let's not be hasty, dear', Mr. Crumb hastened with palm out.
'Oh. But darling, just look at the decor. That sublime ceiling lamp'.
'The natural tilt. The unique shape. And the color!'
'Why, darling, can't you see, the glass shade is the same fabulous tint as the inside of the parlor chair's cushion'.
The kitchen cabinet slipped from its last chance cliff-hanging hold. All three noticed with tilting heads. The landlord cleared his throat and looked down at his shoes in the silence. A rat scratched for mercy inside one of the uninsulated walls.
'And such a lovely oil-cloth for the dinner table'.
The husband faked clearing his throat. He pointlessly smiled at the landlord.
'I don't smell anything, darling'.
'No. The range. Gas or electric, sir?'
'Gas. When it works'.
'Look, you folks sink a hundred dollar bill in this apartment and you got yourselves a real showplace'. A section of glass pane fell onto the floor from a stiff breeze from the narrow brick view outside. It did not shatter. The landlord spoke quickly as an unnecessary diversionary tactic.
'Really? Which one?' Mrs. Crumb looked at the landlord with a surprised expression as though a statue in the park with pigeon droppings was talking to her.
'Renter. A friend that knew a guy that took care of their lawn. One time', his voice fading.
Mrs. Crumb gave a you-see-let's-not-miss-our-opportunity look at Mr. Crumb.
'Yes. I believe we'll take it'!
Lee Plaza Hotel, Detroit
photo by Bonnie Beechler
You are Leo and there's nothing you can do about it. A good day, however, to ask for a raise unless you're not working. Your moon appears fat so wear loose clothing this week. Don't bother large animals with sharp fangs whilst they eat. Pretend to be asleep if strangers attempt to converse with you. Or just hum a show tune. Invest wisely in 18th century pottery. Check the bottom for a spittoon manufacture stamp. Resolve not to use a slingshot to feed your mother-in-law and remind her you are the king of the jungle before the frying pan strikes your temple. Routine is your forte like the clockwork changing of the guard. Guard your change. Especially from teenagers today.
art: The Sleeping Gypsy, 1897
-- Henri Rousseau
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