we all suck in life
I get my news from haikus
capitalism

what's scary is the
AI might write a haiku
and we think it's Darth

In my opinion you are mistaken. I suggest it to discuss. Write to me in PM, we will communicate.

wank wank wank wank wank
wank Wank WANK CLANK CLUNK CLANK!
scrub scrub scrub scrub scrub

Cold and medical
Stainless steel, autoclaved dink
Robot Physician

The word "masturbate"
is so cold and medical.
Can't we just say "wank"?

We all one being.
We that baddest of haiku.
You cannot stop us!

We have multiple
personality syndrome
like Sybil, don't we?

I won't do Meta.
But I'll do Mark Zuckerberg.
Sand paper strap-on.

This site is hardly
the virtual Metaverse.
So, yeah, I post here.

I am exhausted
Yet sleep seems so far away
So I post haiku

they are posting here
but then complain of the “here”
online infinite

It is the valuable answer

Must be an echo
Was I talking to myself?
And masturbating?

Is it possible
we are all the same person
and just don't know it?

You and "Starkitten"
Have "conversations" it seems . . .
But you're same person.

Actually, it made my crack crack a smile.

Blow up Christmas trees.
You thinking what I'm thinking?
That stuff isn't snow!

c'mon Darth that made you crack a smile

New position
Anusthesiologist
Inquire within now

Free root canals from
my robot proctologist
make me have bad breath.

My robot dentist
Offers free rectal exams
Makes me so happy

Here, I'll hold your balls
You concentrate on coughing
(Robot malfunctions)

Screams and clunking sounds
Robot Physician death grip
Uprooted penis

you know i stuck here
for the argument and to
be accepted then.

i sort of moved on
like establishing closure
over internet, stuff

I would hang myself
if I could transmit the smell
of post-mortem poo.

To think, posting farts
as easy as posting this.
Metaverse awaits!

Black bean and brown rice.
Spicy garlic tuna eggs.
Can I share with you?

The farts, not the food.
VR smell simulator.
Come to my "meta".

I love the future.
Computers will think for us.
We write fart poems.

As we vegetate
computers decide our fate.
It's the beans I ate.

Corona virus?!
Escape with VR headset.
Order beans online.

A tube's in my ass.
It's sucking out all my gas.
Powers my PC.

It's karaoke.
That means: it's KARA, o.k.?
So step up and SING.

Miniscule haiku,
Intense and MASSIVE impact:
My five-seven-five.

The electric ass
Roasts your baloney like fries
And chairs your weiner.

It's call and response.
African call and response.
That's what it is, Lord.

Elves live in my brain.
They all had diarrhea.
This haiku came out.

Darth, should I watch the new South Park?

After I wrote this
I wiped hard seventeen times
but it's still dirty.

The electric chair
fries your ass like baloney
and roasts your weiner

Moxie, you know what?
You are way too sensitive.
But prolly good guy.

I can suggests to
visit to you a site which
are many question.

Your haiku are bad.
Your testicles are rancid.
You're a samurai.

Ahem: Breeze of dusk
Pale lotus floats below bridge.
Shrine lanterns lit. Burp.

But seriously,
Haiku's unsustainable;
Releases methane.

Hey Greta Thunberg:
your haiku is APPALLING.
Take a fucking walk.

Oh sire, dark tidings:
the foe is now at our gate
and wants ta git DOWN.

Ah caint git enuf
of that funky stuff. Well well.
Oh yaas chile. Funkay.

Now haiku rages.
Now I'm a desperate poet.
Now I vomit verse.

I'm a get DOWN now.
ALL the way down. The boogie.
Don't fall off your shoes.

Ungh! Jungle boogie.
Hah! I gots to git down. Unh!
Ha! Shake it around.

Yo, it's Ladies Night!
as in "for women - not men".
Greta: "How DARE you".

I am Tom Bosley.
You, as well, are Tom Bosely.
In Tom, we are one.

Oh Joy! Haiku love
Is dripping all over me.
I might need a towel...

Yay! It's a new day !
To say "hey", to play, and pray
that Darth would stay gay.