Wasting all my time
Trying hard to be clever
When nobody cares

Ricky Martin''s dead
I shot him thirty-two times
Justified, I''d say

This must be a first -
An ode to the enema:
"Lots of frothy fun"

This is the first line
It was five syllables long
And hardly inspired

Sometimes I wonder:
The ''Man from DelMont

When I am mayor
Men with high-powered stun guns
Will shock litter bugs

Hey, man with a sign
Where do you think it''s pointing?
To the tattoo place?

Aerosol hair mousse
Is strangely similar to
Aerosol whipped cream

Oh, I never knew
My back could ripple and flow.
Shiatsu massage.

My wee dog nibbled
On a harmless toadstool.
Will she shrink or grow?

Beauty products
Sometimes smell like Dream Topping
But taste of plastic

On long summer days
Men remove their shirts and walk
Topless on the streets

I lifted the veil
That masks the subconscious mind
And kissed its full lips

The sun shines, tar melts
With lolly sticks, we create
Our names on the wall

Hail the size of Mars
Pounds the surface of the Earth
Ming is merciless

someone once told me
"I am a superhero"
I promptly killed them :)

Raisin Head Prophet
Predicting Armageddon,
Get you A Snickers?

Dead eyes fill my heart
Til it weighs me like potatoes
On my burdened couch

Being remembered
Does not make you a legend
It makes you un-you.

Metal Faced Woman
Being So Brave and Unique
Makes You More Alone

That Gwyneth Paltrow
She`s really kinda scrawny
Fake English chicken

the left one is blue
for my balls doth ache from lunch, fucking dog shit stew

My appologies
To those that are offended
Poor formatting sucks.

Small names make for more Enjoyable, easier
To read haiku, Yes?

I think that it''s fixed
But I''m testing it again
Just to be certain

I''m very confused
With the formatting issues
I''ll fix it all soon

Haiku in Yiddish
Means Lift Your Skirt In Public
Catch on America

Idle Time Hero
My Creative Energy
Just Jizzed the Fishtank

Stapled Left Thumbnai
Fountains of Plasmic Beauty
DeNiroing Home

Stapled Left Thumbnail

What vile micturate
Drips down that grimy surface
Could it be BoyZone?

So few musicians
Are spawned in bubbling vats
Or so they tell us

I can''t bend the moon
But I''d like to ask for the
Iron Catalogue please.

down in the backyard
a rabbit-shit factory
processes pellets

splashing in the tank
transmorphic amphibian
not quite a frog

stove clock malfunctions
unexpected beeping sounds
fifty-four o''clock

Less and less items
Are made triangularly
And soon there''ll be none

A minor seventh
Sends me spiralling downwards
Like a falling leaf

Radio aerial
Inside my head lies broken
Reception is poor

An inflatable
Vagina lurks by the steps
Who could have left it?

Are your cameras
Always pointing at the sky
Photographing stars?

If I were wealthy
I''d style my hair like that girl
From the Cardigans

If I were a font
I''d have a little x-height
and true descenders

Do those frail creatures
Constructed from papi

I like brown bottles
They tend to have beer in them
Which is a bonus

I wonder if God
Has gigantic fingernails
For picking his nose?

I''d be happier
If I was as poseable
As an Action Man

I was happy when
I had a new Tonka Toy
Ah, those distant days

Expressing yourself
In seventeen syllables
Is harder than you think

Mmm, Kraft Cheese Slices.
Strange how I find flat foodstuffs
quite so exciting.