Taking a form that friends usually gather around to do stanza by stanza and butchering it by myself.
Lonely Man's Renga
People put matches
up to their face,
pretend it's summer.
People countdown to summer,
eager for ball sweat.
Ball sweat drips down
like rain, only not
as far down to go.
Sink water feigns
summer shower yet to come.
Why have it rain?
Sun makes our flesh change
such pretty colors.
People in bright summer clothes
easier to hit with rocks.
Rocks in summer sun
too hot to sit on,
cook nothing.
Renga goes nowhere with one.
Summer still sucks.
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