Smokey river glides
Earthy obscene eruptions
gaia spewing hot guts

Anonymous
Who never was
And never shall be.

Anonymous rant
Rails like drunken loony
Illiterate

Beaten as a child?
Possibly that's the reason
Why he's desperate.

Has been, gloats, lame flam
Dejected, rant endlessly
Fail pitifully
Sexually your a wast of space)

Back from yoga
His ego's affronted
He knows he can't write.

Stretch, reach for the stars
free this godawful crap
Will's prehaiku thoughts.

Downward dog
I lick my own nuts
My yoga's supreme.

My haikus mean nothing
For I am pretensious Nippress
cravingin attention

A challenge you want
A challenge you shall receive
Babbling yoga freak.

Sexually, Wanting
You still need to prove yourself
Seen nothing good yet
.
Cant Waite forever
Last chance to show us
Wholly up to you
.
All complaints, no Haiku
Its up to you to show us
Bad tutors ignored

Pretenders aren't real
They try to be what they're not
No praise for Nippress.

Desert walk.
Lonely tire, stagnant rainfall...
Guinness Stout?

Come here my darling
Worry not of your parents
You are my toy now

Why such praise for Will?
At first you seem quite annoyed
Then you say he's bad

Clitorus in my button hole
You squeeze my knob and smile
Strange dream

Dreams of young love
Warm embrace
Waking, twas only a pillow

Yearn to paint
No inspiration
Paint everything

So much yoga
Yet so little awareness
The arch pretender.

Poor prolific man
Words do not make the haiku
It's about feeling.

the arts and writings
are inhabited by overly
competive relics...

of the yuppie 1980s...
which is why reality shows
are so damn popular

gee! with any luck
Will's fingers stick to his prick
and he won't type more

Sorry lads can

Mates got youres disease
What on earth is yours, sounds bad
Mines a pint what

Monkeys were once free
But now they toil for Nippress
In his haiku mine

Purim holiday
Festive, prizes, noisemakers
Costumes and the treats

Know what Janis said
Please don

With encouragement
Could go on for lots of years
Best you ignore me

Gee thanks lots you guys
It

Over-worked monkeys
Rebel against their master
Well, it could happen

endless blathering
feels like choking on plastic
bomb Nippress instead

bush presents us with
brand new reality show
Petrol Survivor

"Becky,Getaways
Travel?...That'll be myself, two
sons, many camels..."

ash, stop being a critic

and let the poor man find out

for himself

happy purim...

don't panic

president george bush
it's the end of the known world
in a new abyss

you should get a job
ninety minutes of haiku
don't try a poet

hit the off button
but it just keeps on going
shut the fuck up, will

Doubt drifting high priest
Mountaintop proudly roaring
I

Bolt hard wintertime
You

Resonates blindly
Mesmerizing music drums
Loud Jazz drags you in

Eternal spring shoots
Crazily onions thrusting
Sprouting thin green leaves

Hollywood film sets
Sneezing cherry crushed redheads
Screen virgins, Oh sure

Sad, sad, countenance
Frowns prowl, looking for a face
Just laugh to keep off

Christ, that doubting angst
Adolescent reflections
Now, don

Ardent plums dwindle
His testicles have just shrunk
Sad abstaination

Politicians dance
He somersaults hopelessly
One more resigns

Oil be seeing you
But not familiar places
In the old Baghdad

Grotesque dark formless
Bushes thoughts of punishment
This is for my dad

Puerile deception
Passion crashes, he