want to escape to
dreams and drams but real life does
not go away

I get mad and then
wonder at the value of
getting up at all

there's art and then there's
anti art, the cycle keeps
going and I lose count

slipshod premises
swallow prime residences
torsion collapses

on the other hand
a wrist shackled prosthesis
embedded in bum

trivium beneath
ashen crust of spoiled relics
triumph of notions

array of products
modes of thought delivery
inequivalence

you're missing the point
the details are important
even to artists

what inspires us ?
the difference is content
versus discontent

Urgent loin longings
In the night, in the snowbank
Amber authograph

and sadly this leads
people to give up on being
creative at all

politics for example
tends to have conspiracies
and battles over trifles

middle management
has very much the same
qualities as such who

worry on these trifles

i'm down for the count
concerning that last haiku
add a syllable

take half a dozen
and any twelve step program
add your own cliff

if you are a cunt
convinced you know all you need
the cliff is two steps...

antique virtues and
antique vices, outhouse is
thataway ye gents

isn't that the magic
of the internet, two folks
I don't know wrote words

diving into life
we make our personal splash
pissing in the wind

elegies for none
as we gambol unbridled
'gainst prevailing winds

rivulets of wine
strains of the gullywasher
of my yester eve

i sincerely doubt
the constipated poet
can pass forth wisdom

there's a point when one
doesn't give a shit and then
does all their best work

the esteemed haiku
shall remain unscathed henceforth
by reckless digits

i wonder whether
insincere apologies
surpass mere silence

well it's about time
someone pulled a me on here
it was pretty good

freedom to appeal
rise up and say how you feel
someone else's deal

i hear what you say
your ideas have merit
but it ain't haiku

fuck nepotism and irony and metaphor and meritocracies and borders and depreciation and the "time value" of money and principal and fear and ambition and obsolescence and Malthus and efficiency and endorphins and disdain and schedules and racketeering and threats and retribution and and and derision.

i feel like a right asshole when soapboxing; but, dammit all. fuck all of the nuanced distinctions and befriend your neighbor and let's solve some of this shit. otherwise, toss it all. the art, the love, the property. fuck's sake.

dash the division
and address poverty's house
most complaints downwind

racism endures
homophobia allures
sexism, most pure

something to be said
about pencils, they work in
space, as they are

remodeling, nope
no new space pens, just graphite
russian cosmonaut

Old yellow pencil -
Blunt, worn eraser, chewed up.
More work, less of us

topless patrons at
a topless bar, served coffee
it got burned down see

herculean id
bound no more by balderdash
topples partitions

awakened by joy
met with schlepps and internets
self chastened, i prize

acts of disvalor
becoming most inviting
forewarned is boring

distracted before
mightn't even summon more
bold pop-ups begone

ghastly occurrence
"cognizance." in my "captcha"
among the worst words

so gore vidal
has passed away and for what
guess I must read up

From a dull input
Clarity of cognisance
Polishing my thoughts
.

far too frequently
the problem with family
is that they exist

the really realest?
repugned by experience
i thwart forever

jettison the hope
i quit, therefore I might rise
aloft on disdain

a toasted morning
my sole eventide desire
mourning roving souls

I'm here to write now
the threads of fate intertwine
part of the whole quilt

what is said of pride
is it the last refuge of
those who are dead souls?

if you wish to live
gracefully, stop dying
and start living well

the show of power
always a shade of grey in
the face before snark

paronychia
glowing on my rude finger
please go and get fucked