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The editor's lot, in seventeen syllables

Throwback Thursday is a gimmick permitting the repurposing of old material. Having sold you old rope earlier this week with the annual holiday cautions, I plainly have no shame. So today's throwback Thursday offering is a selection of previously published haiku on the editor's lot.

Regard the comma,

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apt with the compound sentence,

not with compound verbs.

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The patient labor

of the lexicographer

embiggens our tongue.

So sweeping the claims,

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so erratic the result —

Wikipedia.

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A reporter's hand

reaches for a thesaurus;

screams die in my throat.

In the intern's work

commas cluster on the page,

sprinkled like pepper.

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Thirty-four inches

on education reform—

caffeine's not enough.

The bureau's story

matches its budgeted length.

My eyes fill with tears.

This story's first graph

runs for forty-seven words.

Time to turn the page.

Proud writer inquires,

Don't you find this lyrical?

Shoot me in the head.

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