by Shertok Samyak
Haikus to Philippe Petit
Every plump morning
he gambles with his life to
be alive again.
Walking between twin
towers is impossible—
so he starts walking.
He jumps on a wire,
forgetting everything else—
the dancing Buddha.
He spends an hour
touching raw clouds—artistic
crime of the century.
In this mad le coup,
if he dies all he’ll have is
immortality.