Monday, April 20, 2015

Roger Zelazny Poetry Month 2015: Day 20

I'll have some original stuff tomorrow, promise, but I'm still fascinated by the haiku finder. Here are all the haiku from Nine Princes in Amber. I'm kind of surprised by how many we got out of it, but I think it's the certainly the most noir of the series, and that style of prose probably contributes to the rhythm that gives rise to these haiku.


Before I arrived,
I'd already decided
on the tack I'd take.

He had a long strong
jaw and hazel eyes and brown
hair that never curled.

"She's not here right now.
May I take a message or
have her call you back?

She sprang to her feet,
half her drink spilling over
the back of her hand.

Maybe even you,
to get me here. Hope not, though.
You didn't, did you?

"Or Eric," I said,
suddenly looking at her.
But she shook her head.

She doesn't really
deserve to live, but that's not
for me to say, yet.

A gate occurred on
one side, and Random told me,
"Stop and blow your horn.

"I'm doing my best,"
he said, "and I'll do it all
the way, I promise.

"Good show," said Random,
"but you're lucky they didn't
go for the tires.

Beyond that, it seemed
there was another one on
the right, and so on.

The Veil had parted
before me, as abruptly
as it had occurred.

And more, so much more,
back to-- I took another
step. Back to-- The dead.

I knew that I had
done it before, so I knew
that I could do it.

The sparks reached as high
as my waist at this point, then
my breast, my shoulders.

How many hundred
do you think will remain when
we reach the city?

I want you to know
that Dad and I never got
along very well.

After all, there had
been so many of us when
the last march began.

We slept another
night and on the following
morning we set forth.

There were a couple
hundred people between us,
but my voice carried.

My beard was very
long and my hair fell across
my eyes, constantly.

I already had
the spoon tucked inside my boot
So what good was it?

"How is your father?
Have you seen him recently?
Did he put you here?

I had a command
for over a hundred years.
That seems long ago.

I felt that he might
fear mental contact with me
again. Julian, then?

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