“Read my poem? Please?”
In real life I’d get blank stares.
Here, you’re back for more.
haikouldn’t ask it of you
Reply
“Read my poem? Please?”
In real life I’d get blank stares.
Here, you’re back for more.
Just over five months
This one four hundred fifty
Art or wasted time?
A haiku a day?
Not quite. Some days the tap runs,
some days it’s bone dry.
Mud has a smell that’s
like waking up to coffee.
You know you’re alive.
The equinox means
equal night and day worldwide
yin and yang of light.
‘Beware!’ Caesar was
told. Like teens in horror films
he didn’t listen.
What’s that mean? That spring’s
a dominatrix, whipping
March ’til it submits?
Headgear gone wild I
tip my hat to idiots
who have flipped their lids.
Reclaiming the word,
she grabs the bitch by the horns
and makes us all proud.
for jem who says, “it’s your last lines that get me everytime.“
I’d like to think of
myself as the O. Henry
of the haiku form.