He craves mouth music
Gets around. All the venues.
Limp shrimp on menu.

Muzak while dining
Bloody pants now crimson. Stained.
Deboned and Deveined.

always an answer
but it is the song that never
ends, ends, ends, ends...

Carpentry Project.
Reclaimed Wood. Built a new bench.
Blow jobs in comfort

Should be portable
Eve: First female Carpenter
Made banana stand

Shel Bussey in drag
You measure twice and cut once
Blow Jobs: not so much

Seen bench around town
He needs D.I.Y. Project
Build him a cage, girl.


"Private" Detective

Astrotheme website
All Compatibilities
Kurt Cobain and me

I feel like courtney
love is having a nervous
breakdown posting haiku...

Dildo in fridge: Coldplay
Went to Putney School with her
She was a coke fiend

Better lawyer up
Paltrow gonna sue, Goku
Jail. Sudoku. You.

mises, human action
she responded gazundheit
austrian skool, you

Give back the dildo.
Rightful owner is pissed off
Signed, Gwyneth Paltrow

Shoe shopping again
I work full time with camels
Walking behind them

Didn't you love it
When those cats picked up the tab?
Free Breakfast. Gene Rosen.

how many people are
you having a convo with
fucking DID

we are legion
so say the alters and one
insist they've antlers

fucking rudolph

Instant millionaire
Funny how things turn out
Solid Gold Dildo

Hello, Zoo monkey
Can't offer you position
Overqualified

Easy solution.
Just pour table salt on it
Like a garden slug

Facebook. Disturbing.
Pics sent to friend by stranger.
Dick next to beer can

Hello, Zoo Monkey?
You got the job.Start Wednesday.
Bring that used dildo.

We provide your lunch.
Zoo visitors buy your treats
Please have a clean ass

What is the most disturbing thing you have seen on Facebook?

I promise I won't throw my poo this time.
Please remove the restraints.
Well, fuck you then, buddy!

I'd like to get a job where I just sit around playing with myself all day long. I would lounge around behind a 2 way mirror. People could take pictures of me. Kind of like a zoo monkey. I mean, why not? Call it performance art or something. Get a government grant.

Dumpster dive a gourmet meal.
Find an old wallet filled with cash.
And a slightly used ipod.
Brand new shoes.
And a dildo.
But the dildo was used, I'm pretty sure.

Goddamn... I have work to do and I don't want to do any of it... I just want to quit and live out of dumpsters. In the US that's not a problem... I don't recommend it in a 3rd world country.

Why can't women poop alone?
I mean, why is that?

I've seen a lot about eating bugs lately. Funny that I just got back from the land of bug eaters. Yes they are high in protein, but to make them taste good requires a lot of salt. High blood pressure results. I'll pass on the MSG grasshoppers. Popcorn is fine.

My wife is drinking.
I hope that she passes out.
I'll fuck her cute friend.

Poop poop poop poop poop.
Poop poop poop poop poop poop poop.
Poop poop poop poop poop.

It's not about length
Freud spoke of "Haiku Envy"
A matter of depth

Tell me what you think?
Statute of limitations
For the rock throwing?

Not As The World Turns
Sing: Since the world was turning
The Piano Man

Remember he sang:
I am an innocent man
O yes I am. See?

And for the record
Billy Joel..Not an arsonist
Threw Rocks. Glass Houses

Have a piano
Fall on your head from rooftop?
Song stuck on the brain.

i have had enough of you
I'm not posting here anymore

Smelly fur taco
Passed Madonna's son Rocco
Still like a virgin

Nelly Furtado
Just pooped on your windshield, sir.
Then she flew away

poetry is dead

All poets should die!!!...

I mean DYE... their hair.
Bright rainbow colors,
get drunk and pass out
flowers to strangers on street corners
THEN KILL THEM... selves.

First, Robert Furman discovered that he hated poetry. In the midst of writing a poem he suddenly realized that there was not a single pursuit he could think of that was so trivial, so superfluous to living.

He was in an academic setting, of course, and that could have been part of the problem. Here poetry was published in slim, arch magazines and read by perhaps twenty-five people who published in the same journals. But it was not just the elitism that troubled Furman. He realized, in the midst of composition, that he could attach any adjective to any noun (the "arbitrary teapot" or the "truculent rose," for instance) and then cobble up some sort of meaning to suit the phrase. There seemed something despicable in this wordplay, a kind of intellectual self-abuse.

Perhaps, he thought, it was only his own poetry that he despised. But no, he discovered that he hated the poetry of all his peers, and, incredibly, all poetry ever written. Behind every poem there seemed to crouch an immensely self-involved ego, the sort of man or woman who would let the infant cry in its cradle while seeking just the right nuance of tone and cadence. The people who wrote poetry were to be avoided as were the poems that emanated from them like methane gas seeping from a swamp.

Excerpt from Zod Wallop by William Browning Spencer

If all poets died,
the world would be a nice place.
--Edgar Allen Poe

Sing along now folks
Haiku Killer, Qu'est-ce que c'est?
Run,run,run away...

Try Jim Jones Soda
Tastes like Kool-Aid, Neon Blue
Toxic, just like you.

1 ply roll wears thin
Ditto says the headless twin
Your thunder's just farts

Starkitten's excess:
wipe the Haiku from your ass
then take a shower.

Upon reading John
Densmore's story of the Doors:
Jim was not so bright.

sun is now shining
fragrance of ground coffee beans
day's light has begun

Just letting you know
Can stop the poetry flow
HAIKUVIUS, BLOW!

Vegan Brady Bunch
Carrot Top fucking Alice
With Huge Cucumber

Put some clothes on, Dude!
Segway. Bill Gates just whizzed by.
Microsoft indeed

Strangle Tiny Tim
Pull out some Dickens tonight
Ebeneezer Spooge?

Number2vius
Active toilet volcano!
Real pain in the "ash"