Believed it alright
The granddaddy of them all
Lived down in his pants

Old H.P. Lovecraft
He really believed that stuff:
Cthulu, Dagon...

Impossible task:
Elevate quality here.
Back to the gutter.

Fattening physics.
Missing Mooncakes lost matter.
Oprah's Big Black Hole.

Do not get sucked in.
Poetry cannot escape
the gravity well.

You should check out the
C'thulu for President
Organization.

obscurity was
the love i had for my own
20s, odd mind tidbits

oh cthulhu the madness of
this era even exceeds thee
oh fictional squid god

cat purrs cat crawls up
seeing human as hill to
climb over, rest on

when a man loves a
woman but he wants to be
a woman...trust me

ive seen other variations on this
theme too

moon pies were pretty
bad but addictive like so
much, tastes good, bad carbs

well i post one blurb
and radio silence, uh
what's radio? 105.1 fm tos

just another manic
monday, maniacs, mid terms
and the letters mmmmm

The missing mooncakes
Just like those Gingerbread Men
Sneaky Doberman

Transsexual storms.
Hurriphoons and/or tycanes.
Sharing hemispheres.

But hurricanes and
typhoons don't want tornadoes
to be molested.

Born a month late. Breech
Traffic Jam in Birth Canal
Detour thru Rear End

Married on Monday
Newbie groom hid in bathroom
But his goose was cooked

Kapre...Big Galoot
21 Balut Salute
Big Hairy skin flute

Haven't been caught yet
Creeping around his back stairs
Starkitten Lightfoot

Fuck the stupid birds
We are going to eat them
They are gods mistake

Bad Haikufucius
He who meditate in john
Have shitty outlook

And chops off the cock
of Starkitten the Noisy,
Destroyer of Words.

Ooooo, I love that book!
Conan the librarian!
She conquers ten books!

Library so quiet
All patrons are behaving
You can hear pin drop

If your cock falls off
and no feminists hear it
did it sill fall off?

Gems sparkle at night
Some gems are worthless garbage
Some gems are dumb glass

Long Pig food kiosk.
Cloned human flesh at low price!
Penis on a stick.

Boat rocks under me
Waves hit the land: tsunami !
Nice sea-shells on shore

Thai food is the best.
Filippino food sucks ass.
Balut eggs are gross!

I shouldn't ask this.
Is it wrong to eat children?
So fat and juicy.

Asian food is bad
I don't like egg in my food
Disgusting raw fish

He got an implant.
Penis version two point oh.
Comes with Windows 10.

Mooncakes taste so good
They are full of nasty eggs
Lava-lamp feel hot

Broke the piñata
With his "Louisville Slugger"
Werthers Avalanche!

But "they" weren't hiding.
Grandpa was the one hiding.
With a big boner.

In addition they
also gave him three hookers
and 10 grams of coke.

He used to smoke crack.
But that was back in the day.
Now it was plain coke.

How can hillbillies
afford to buy so much coke?
That's a good question.

The perfect surprise
When they came out of hiding
"Happy Birthday, Gramps!"

He climbed down into
the outhouse shithole so he
could see vagina.

Grandpa Ciderpants
Pressed for time. He's all business.
Sprint to the outhouse.

That's not good for you.
You might catch H I Voo Doo.
Or the blue waffles.

Do not write haiku.
You'll become gay if you do.
Then you might pound poo.

Confabulation?
It's an abombination:
Infibulation.

I got angry enough
to turn this off one time
and watch something die

I would let it die
and let it go, just spasm
a few more times then

look, I'm busy in
real life, I'm not as old as
you with the time there

if you keep it up
I might quite altogether
say fuck it and out

of real life fear just
delete everything and
break my laptop here

or annoyance I'm not sure

NOTEBOOK PAPER (SLAM!!)
WRITE SOME COCK A DOODY HAIKU
YOU DIRTY BIRDIES!!

Quiet as Jonestown here
A sea of tossed plastic cups
Drank Bad Haikul-Aid?

I figured it out
You have to sit still longer
To write the poems

Haiku good for Earth
Less trees wasted on poems
More toilet paper

Bad Haiku like farts.
Essential. Pure Distilled oil.
Poem: Toilet coil

Used to date poet
Tried to kill himself with pills
He had tiny feet

What, no poets here?
You ALL fail to pass the test.
Haiku fails you now.

Now, back to those clits:
Crying out for their owners
in Somalia . . .

I am sick of sex
(not the deed--but as Haiku).
I want POETRY!