Get loose and crazy
Let desire bloom like cancer
bold melanoma

I wonder if Jane
ever tasted any of
Johnny''s Appleseed

...Forgive me my friends
I forget myself at times
I go fall down now...

My sweet lesbians
Thou art my dream revealed
What more could I say?

My sweet lesbians
Thou art my dream revealed
What more could I say?

Gus Van Zant gave me
Unreciprocated love
For homo cowgirls!

Now it seems to me
You must know th score by now
So why not get down?

a pen and paper
matches and recognition
you could burn a lot

What are you saying?
I have all these ideas
Can''t them inside

It is difficult
for those under five feet tall
to buy cowboy clothes

The hardest bargain
involves getting Bob Barker
naked for five bucks

It''s Harrison Ford
in the motherfuckin'' house
drinking gin and juice

Bad conversation,
terrible puns and rain.
... But how was *your* day?

My cousin tells me:
hurricane in florida.
Damned Mexican moths.

My exhausted brain.
It bangs about in my head
like bee in bonnet

endless extensions
make for cyber wallpaper
och, do you nae ken?

breathe in some k.e.
volume alone i must say
is not eloquence

Am I all alone
In this crazy haiku world
Or do I just smell?

Some cyclopean
Masonry fell on my toe
And hurt it a bit

Existential angst
Floats like a hungry seagull
On my psychic sea

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?