Oh the spring flowers
How merily they emerge
From winter's tight grip

Lovely Unicorn
Your majestic horn protrudes
From your noble head

Military might;
My love for kittens and their
Soft fur makes me blush

Clear on what I think
Not blinded by my anger
Take a look at yours
-
What makes world angry
Is your countries attitude
To rest of the world
-
Also your own poor
And you

unable to think

prance across
summer study room
ice-creams

Which hour is longest?
Monday's first or Friday's last?
Time is relative.

Biking across town
Got to make it home in time
Ice cream is melting.

He who rocked the boat
must pay
In stones or happiness

KOC man said 17 black girls
for that old Milo
Poor soul rots in Serbia

Angry bullies
no remorse
KOC is at your doors

KOC, where the fun is at
if you don't fuck somebody
Call it a day on yourself
***
He said it, shut the fuck up
No, he said it
Shut up your fukin yapper

When Knights of Columbus are having fun
Then the bastard must go to Serbia
Is that true, ditto

Vacant palaver
Nary a trenchant riposte
Discourse with dummkopfs

Your country: want to
show it's possible to know
sans insulting it.
*
Your anger blinds you.
Stereotyping: so sad.
Maybe you'll mature.

Conundrum for me
Back to old lover or new
I really want them both

So still reading me
You want to know my country
Oh can

Complicated rhymes
Are a good reason to boast
But not Limericks
*
Lowbrow limericks
Are fun to write when you

btw, Italo American pizza tastes like shit
Between Italian and Greek
Go ahead and make your own

ITALIANS LIKE TO JUDGE: ASK JESUS
LIKE TO SELL GOOD RIDES
AND FUCK ELSE'S WIVES : ASK G BARBERA

You wrote Nantucket
I would guess there

Hope there is a God
beside you GB
And a good supply of spare hubcaps

***

Hope the ones you returned to me
Are back at you
Along with the horns
right back at you
Be blessed by the Pope
Be blessed by the Pope
Sorry

G Barbera
Rock on
Fuck my wife

***

G Barbera

Many happy sales
Many happy returns
To my wife

***

Italian son of a bitch
Plain coward
Without MAFIA clan support

the land of the free
america oh america
but serbs do free verse

History's course: some
bright, mostly dark and brutal.
We've had it easy.

Why don't Fuck the US as well
When there is no American Dream
It's all gone now!

What U.S. troppers want
married immigrants chicks
Bastards of the world unite
***
Why don't Fuck the US as well

Scherbs, scherbs
what a lousy nation
ashamed to be

Land of Barbers
From Morrocco
USA is shit
***
Hope you ring when SELL
Hope you rot in Hell
Hope all is Well

computer write verse
nonsensical as it is
i don't really care

Sordid Sybarites!
Clad in veneer of velvet.
Soul remains naked

Another name for
me! Missed: insult my country.
You have a country?

Fear Not, My Dear Web
Mistress. I Am Here For
You To Devour.

Oh fluffy pillow
I think of you in the day
My head needs some soft

The jitters, bad breath,
and frequent urination.
I love my coffee.

oh silly spam bot
I do loathe thee oh so much
make me write haiku

Last night at salsa
I danced with lovely Lorna
New move she showed me
*
Bought her face so close
So sensual, provocative
My lips brushed her cheek
*
Arm around my neck
Her face held inches from mine
So unexpected
*
Mate Simon just laughed
He could see my flustered state
Locked tightly to her
*
My heart was pounding
Cute and slim sexy body
Such hot temptation

So brightly she shone
Where

Thought you

Wet streets softly lit
Stars fall under midnights spell
Dark sky surrenders

Anger, low-brow dreck?
You save your indignation
For your red neck self

In the great words of
Curly from Three Stooges
...whoo, whooo, whooo!

She Left No Trace,
Except One Or Two,
Leftover Salmon.

My Girl Of Late,
Janis Took The Bait,
Hook, Line, Stinker.

spammie like content
removed by hand for this time
soon to be auto

Verbal sparring can
be fun. But, wild anger
is just low-brow dreck.

I

Ball full of water
Blaine taking on a sperm whale
Yes ok but why?

A Haiku to Lament Lost Sleep:

3 o'clock A.M.
Crying awakes my slumber
The cat wants in now

The neighbors are rude
The cat yowls to be let in
Yet no one listens

Except our family
Yearning for our precious sleep
It will not shut up

As the night wind blows
And the cat cries like sadness
I am still awake

Water on the brain
It was a problem, cured now
A tap on the knee