Am I a mystic,
a theologian, or one
who both feels and thinks?

abbott, costello
the great existential joke
who, what, I dunno?

did when become why
however speaking of then
it looks better now..

isn't nothing true
or everything permissable
or is it the other way around

I wallow in it
self pity...not moving still
remaining small town same

what, I need to take
drugs to write something big time blast?
I'm shucked as it is...

brain open oyster to
scoop it out, suck it down and
throw away that there shell

moove it on over
slide it on over...moove on over galloway a mean

old cow is moving
in...

I have to admit
when I lose my temper it's a nice verb snapshot

gives me a chance to
perhaps see how silly it
is for just myself

nice one garlic, I
think, but is one unholy
cow worth the black meat?

in the heat of some
momentary cliche, it
just might end in dross

it might end in bang
it might end in snore, the soil
is tilled with tares grown

I'm thirty five and
I feel like this now, juvenile
stunted and silly

black shoes with coal dust
printed ideas left behind
shoes were black before

Your pain is shallow
I felt the exact same way
When I was fifteen

when are haiku's good
who gives a shit, it's our blood
you might as well say

that a child should die
in the womb, it's life is worthless
carrion, afterbirth

vultures ripping at
your unwanted unborn retards
think about that next time

you wanna be fucking critic

I'd rather live but
it's the same damn pissed off run
of pointless bullshit

when does it all end
with some resolution or
something else, something

what is the point of
living when there's no escape
from the past and small

minded small town people
who's town would be best flooded
and the population

whiped out by the
ocean, I'm tired of people
I want to kill myself

right now

what is the fucking
point when your job is run by
clueless rich gay men

your neighbor's think not
a damn thing of bringing all
people up and some

damn guy thinks that all
pride is scallops, and I'm thinking
of driving a knife

into my chest while some
cockless henry miller wanna
be talks about fools

on this god damn web
site, I want to kill myself
because of how I feel

and I don't care if
people mock me if that's fine
gives me another reason

All women are whores
And all men are liars, that
Is the only truth

I'm looking forward
Devon Feb, Madrid in Mar
Barcelona Apr

Caribbean Dec
To see my long lost cousin
Visit Bordeaux in May

Not seen him for years
He lives in an old farmhouse
On the Great Gironde

big wisdom, small source;
the nuance is everything.
Horton just listened.

Ev-ry particle
of light tickles rods and cones--
Eyeball orgasm.

has it been so long?
no haikus since 2005
...they used to be good.

a facade--showy;
a misrepresentation
to hide unpleasance.

pride is a facade.
nations born of blood and tears
reap more of the same.

when the booze flows some
only think of the booze, by
the booze, for the booze

then the haze may clear
and others progress into
their testimonies

it's cuzz you suck fuzz
there's no one like you asshole
now you know the truth

dew on the stove top
nostrils flare and then succumb
nature's bakery

That is incorrect
Sex is for procreation
And pleasure, that's it

The purpose of sex:
physical expression of
intangible love.

The only thing that's
up is my engorged phallus
As I think of snail

the flesh is nice but
it's also a distraction
from what's really up...

What is going on
You fuckers are quite confused
Let's stay on topic

hypocritical
self invovled egoist ass
now..you are so owned

I'm glad he's not dead,
even if he can be both
BULLy and COWard.

Who's a female then?
A bull bellows. a cow moos
fs now called moo

Long long time ago
Ash gave me some good advice
"Beware of the Trolls"

in a moment he'll
not he will but, more like hell
straight from his heart

It does not matter
Flesh is flesh and dick is dick
There's no you or me

While I am intrigued
by thoughts of being conquered,
it won't be by you.

That's not a haiku
Who the hell you think you are
You bull shit artist

it's an acquired taste
there's good eating in them
pants
downright delicious

It's a metaphor
You'd be sexually conquered
Or maybe consumed

I've never been so
into the whole "vore" thing, but
if that's your fetish...

If you were my wife
I'd do more than tickle, I'd
Devour you whole

He called me "riblet"
and said that he'd tickle me
if I were his wife.

snow smothers; glistens
once again this filthy town
looks so clean and pure

Shinning sky blue dress
sequinned, gathered at the waist
I shimmy down 5th

Slender bare branches
Bleak outlines against light blue
Seemingly lifeless

Regarding SF
I doubt if anyone cares
Used to skip his junk

He's always angry
You only miss the good ones
He will not be missed

Somebody has to
Keep his spirit alive right
Might as well be me