stupid free verse, no matter how stupendous, is not terse and, thus not haiku. stifle your moronism, blast the schism, and adhere, whilst here, to the sole prescription, the maledictiuon... three lines, and a count... those syllables amount to some pierced viscount's notion of fluid emotion. Oh shit... violation.
Who the fuck cares. My final semblance caters to embolism... dizziness ... ajf8r4ies