slogging through blogs more
like Tweets sans substance and form
bottom feeding trash

like Herpes Simplex...
pustules erupt upon Bad
Haiku.."sore subjects"

Angie's boyfriend Dan is the biggest tool and douche on the planet...

walk the tightrope to
follow your heart yet DO NO
HARM as others have

fear fills their faces
suprise fills mine with pain, hate
what do i do next

in times of grave stress
charismatic psychopaths
beat drums of discord

critical thinking
never a strong suit for the
Palin loving crowd

billowing vision
of crisp salty breeze flapping
sails heading seaward

Cheerful May
By gentle smell involves
lilac in full bloom

seismic orgasms
coital encounters 'midst the
hotel's wobbly walls

insipid blather
the herpes sores resurface
touting and taunting

Zaps' vinyl scratched disc*
with revolutionary
repetition...Gay shit

* not tapes

allure of things past
like waves crashing on a shore-
from earth to earth, gone.

Apple CEO
Steve Jobs or whatev - who cares
Dresses like a nerd

the day the music
died Somali radio
stations [14] are silenced...

Look of his values
Insight into his dull mind
His secret desires

Small brain submision
Likes Mono syllabic text
One subject haiku

borne in my journal
the marks of Jesus.. his blood
weeping for our sins

in these sunny climes
shady characters do roam
with impunity

cause, gone intentions
fading away - moment non
time, another day.

Sun heating my back
Bitter cold wind from the north
Turn like a spit roast

sticks and cardboard box
doth make a fort defended
with epic redux

chrysalis world of
twitter/Ipod/wii births
dysphoric children

toward the village
down the path visiting homes
silences swept on.

tetter-tottering
on cliff's edge the acid spoke..
"Do it! You can fly!!"

tripping on acid
he tetter-tottered on cliff's
edge then a voice.."FLY!!"

standing on a ledge
balanced on one leg, alert,
for the changing winds.

They keep flowing forth
Millions of tiny searchers--
Swimming in the flood

chinese music sings
in the higlands calling an
irishman home there

What the hell was that?
It flew across my vision--
A phantom Frisbee

AMEN Scotland
bless it!

Lips of golden warmth
Taste of strawberries and cream--
Decadent delight

I'm not sure quite why
But her laugh is ecstasy--
I guess I'm in love

I ate my watch
"Tick," it tocked in my gullet--
Then I met Jim Hook

I ate my watch
"Tick," it tocked in my gullet

in fact the "tactful"
are worthless pussies who lack
kerouac's spirit

the tactful might as
well say fucking is like a
salad bar special dressing

God DAMN tact...I say
beat TACT to death and let her
blood flow on the cross

tis no hope for those
lacking tact and absent pose
a mirror'd horror

prostrate and bereft
prostate huge, balls i must heft
all manner of ills

shivering magnolias
await eve's imminent frost
first blossoms to fall

young dogwood blossoms
contained almost hesitant
is something missing?

one night, silently
this heart will break, come morning
you will find me gone

Casting long shadows
The spring sun calls the flowers
Tempting, show yourselves!

Pampas Grass

pampas grass
marsh mud glistens
in the rowboat


marsh wren's cry
the sun ripples onto the mud


wetland chill
a patch of ripples disappears


marsh lightning
the tree's blossoms open
into egrets


wetland channel
the moon spreads onto the grass

scurrying squirrels
amidst the dry foliage-
sounds like an army.

avante garde haiku
is neither just poorly matched
pretentious bedmates

child s bedroom
the sound of a mosquito
in the dark

child

child