simplistic tanka about
sumo, yet again
what makes poetry real? is
it academic respect?
what makes culture real?
man, ain't none of this shit real;
all just relative
sumo's existed longer
than either you or I have
why have I forgot
to do this ridiculous
shit past few basho?
I love sumo's spectacle,
and girthy dudes flexing skills
the era of four
yokozuna is long gone;
only two left
each day in this project, I
highlight one dude as special
each dude highlighted
only once per basho, like
a fucked up honour
hence title "honour tanka",
though I'm often times fusen
haven't completed
an entire basho's worth of
these in year and half
NONETHELESS, HERE I AM - 'BOUT
TO WRITE SUMO POETRY
day one, how many
times I've made the "Endo? smell
more like outdo'" joke
Endo's now komusubi -
climbing sumo's pyramid
his first opponent,
Goiedo, is eternal
ozeki it seems
Goiedo always does well,
yet never yokozuna
Endo fends off his
defeat, balances at edge
(like all true wild folk)
perseverance pays off
as Goeido's knee gives out
his ankle also
twists awkwardly; Goeido
appears somewhat fucked
nonetheless, in battle, to
be fucked means someone else wins
Endo, whose sumo
name reminds me of Friday
movie quotable
winner of day one's top match,
and thus now remembered here
internet content
or subversive poetry?
perhaps maybe both?
I don't know man, I just do
ridiculous shit, online
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