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Jay Cox
Poet
For me, this haiku evolved out of a warm, breezy thought—the idea of escaping the office and enjoying a splendid Syracuse afternoon, relaxing downtown on a bench during lunch.

However, even such a fortunate moment can be sabotaged by an unforeseen mishap. Wrestling with a hot dog can always prove challenging—and this instance was no exception. Plop goes the mustard and there goes the idyllic outdoor dining experience. Thoughts race through a now troubled mind: Does anyone have a napkin? What else will the mustard smear? Is it on my shirt…pants? Will someone else step in the splatter?

Then again, there could be benefits: perhaps the mustard will cover an old catsup stain, or maybe the hot dog will be tastier without that big glob of mustard. And, hey, at least it wasn’t chili sauce or sauerkraut.

Lunchtime on a bench
in Hanover Square—hot dog
mustard hits my shoe

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