Finding My Root

Last summer, in wishing Prince a happy birthday via haiku, I credited Purple Rain with helping form some of my early perceptions of masculinity. I watched it last night after not having seen it for many years, this time looking for clues about myself via the movie's portrayal of gender and sexuality. I made the following observations:

This is what I think a grown man's bedroom looks like.

This is how I think men who love women dress.

And this is how I think they dance.

This is what I think flirting is.

Also this.

And this is the most romantic five minutes in cinema history.

Haiku for a Tiny, Purple Role Model

He's not a woman,

Not a man. He is something

You won't understand.

This is my life.

I must be doing something right.

If you force it, it breaks.

I learned a really beautiful and useful phrase last night, and it is 7 syllables long. I love it when that happens. Thanks, Q.

Haiku for Letting the Right One In

It's cold out, and you're
"Almost the key to my house."
Good thing there's windows.

XYZ, PDQ

Remember this really smart and useful essay about being called out on privilege and its brilliantly memorable analogy to your fly being open?

I revisited it today. Here's the unfortunate part:

It works for people who accept that privilege is real and has influence over the way we experience life. It works for people who recognize their own privilege exists and want to help build a more equitable society. In short, it works for people who want to act as allies.

Cue the sad trombone.

Haiku for Watever. I don't even HAVE a zipper!!!

Dude, your fly is down.
"How dare you try to help me
Not be embarrassed."

Jumping the Shark

Today's haiku by request from a loyal 17aDay fan, MM:

About a decade ago, in a Midwest Denny's, I watched a kid* draw on his place mat. There were planes flying over hapless stick figures, dropping bombs on them. The bombs were made of knives. The knives were maybe made of something else, like fire. Or tarantulas. I can't be bothered to remember exactly.

For all I know, that kid moved to Hollywood and made Sharknado.

Haiku for an Improbable-Weather-Related Disaster Flick

A child's crayon sketch
Of flying, exploding sharks
In theaters near you

*"Kid" is what I call anyone in their 20s.

Hallelujah, it's raining marine carnivorous fish.

Resolved.

Haiku for the New Year

In 2014
I will write a post a day.
Ha ha ha ha ha!