This form is called the Haibun and it smashes a prose poem with a haiku. I’m currently studying a little futurism in college so this poem is about that! (And Marinetti is like the founding father of futurism to anyone who doesn’t know the reference)
If The Futurists Saw Our Today
Marinetti’s lips tremble against his throbbing heart. FLUMP THU-FLUMP THU- FLUMP. Logs of glass and metal jutt into the sky and against the plip-plop-plips of delicate rain the thrashing of a helicopter coaxes all around. A low humming mix of fwip-fwip-fwIP- fWIP-FWIP-FWip-Fwip-fwip. A coded future with Vicious engines was all they saw and now it splays as a chaotic grid around our cities. We melt like lazy dogs into couches raised 300 feet off the ground and our great vehicle beasts vanish around us as harmless, muttering sheep. These displays of outstanding achievements for humankind submerge further and further back against the walls of normalcy.
Would they scream, In our future, Or rejoice.
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