The tourists loiter
On the pavement and gawp like
Abandoned chickens

When I was a child
I taught myself how to speak
Using just some sticks

A leafy sapling
Stretches skywards like a man
Trying to reach god

This nuclear pen
Will even write upside-down
and underwater

The broth of spawning
Belches great spumes of ichor
In my spare bedroom

My phone is hands-free
So now I can use both hands
When I''m on the phone

This night is blacker
Than the bottom of a cave
On the ocean floor

I like to inhale
The scent of summer flowers
I''m not gay, you know

Is there anything
As enchanting as wearing
New socks every day?

Is there a reason
that cold baked beans taste so great
when eaten in pants?

Gazing at his wife,
the blind man with restored sight:
"God, is that your *nose*..?"

this big paper block
never seems to diminish
it''s so very queer

The spent silver packs
Of furtive prophylactics
Are scattered around

When the time is right
I shall sell bags of cold phlegm
On the Stock Market

Would turquoise tendrils
Emerging from my pocket
Really make you flee?

I''m beating my head
On the surface of my desk
To make it flatter

sometime earlier
in a simpler world than this
i was still confused

Oh you foolish folk
I am not really Mexican
Despite sombrero

I filled my wellies
With the spawn of frogs and toads
Then tried them for size

I wonder whether
Spiderman''s ejaculate
Could be spun, like silk?

Whoa, it just went down!
Did you see that green flush spark?
I''ve seen it just once.

And ya know what Ern?
I have to say that I''m good.
How the fuck are you!

I leaned back and watched
While the sun set to the West
And I blew smoke rings........

jfhgffhgfhhgfhhh

Enough about me
My talentless poet friends,
How the fuck are ya?

Making like a mess
of the formats of haiku
Come back my dear sense

Raking like a knave
On the forecep of your fiends
Like a bat says why?

Raking like a knave
On the forecep of your fiends
Like a bat

Breaking like a wave
On the doorstep of your dreams
I''m back to say hi

The dry bone moistens
juices seep into the mind
''tis a great feeling!!!

I made a new word
Sometimes I call it "Fabbig"
But not every time

The electric flute
Has yet to be invented
Technology sucks

My hydraulic elf
Has pistons the size of trees
Which is so pointless

I have one hundred
Felt-tip pens, in a wallet
I chewed all their ends

Hey, Boutrous Boutrous
What''s with that Boutrous baby?
Are you like, twins?

I took a Biro
and doodled on my forearm
the sign of the cow

My Prang Fun Crayons
Are made from processed soy beans
They taste of crayon

The first golden leaves
Fall in homage to winter
Hand me the blower

I drank some Snapple
Then foolishly, I drank more
I stretched my bowel

So few seasons turn
Endlessly throughout the years
Which one is Bummer?

This page of haiku
Is not only bad but long
It may soon explode

Tell me to shut up
I need to get beauty sleep
Lord knows I need it

And to quote Shakespeare
Is just another cheap way
Wasting three minutes

And now three mintues
To write my own bad haiku
All the World''s a stage

I wasted too long
Reading too much bad haiku
Fifteen minutes gone

an alien clock
which detracts from the impact
regarding the date

nine nine ninety-nine
it is i who malfunction
whilst i waste the day

Time for me to go
Phone bill mounting rapidly
Bye-bye everyone

That last one was mine
Forgot to put my name in
Silly silly boy

I''m worried about
My addiction to wrestling
Long-haired men in tights