what once burned with verse
is now just cold and empty
from flame to ash hole

i keep my fingers clean
while sitting down, blowing mud
watery feces

flatulent, stinky
that's no place for my pinky
wee willie winky

Baking cookies is
just my li'l way of saying,
"Here, have cookie!"

whenever it blows
do you suppose that my hose
sprays better in prose

unproven science
colonic irrigation
it just doesn't wash

Love is in the air
can you smell it? Love is in...
oh wait, that's my ass.

so few ifs or ands
yet a major load of butts
holed up at this site

uncle two fingers
probing the fleshy expanse
of my throbcolon

some things are better
when you leave them in your ass
not when they escape

burning flatulence
oh God, someone help me, please
my ass is on fire

there's a dance grooving
in my pants, moving like ants
dribbling down my leg

That's cause Battlepuppy is GAY.

I try to go pee
but I have an obstacle -
Puppy's uvula

Priest limits restrict
He points to rules and cries foul
But he just sucks ass

Puppy uses tongue
as paintbrush, his paint? Scrapings
from my bleeding ass.

Hello, my children
I bring you my holy water
Blessed orifice.

My hands are tied with
certain topics off limits
I am limited.

Saint would have fought back
With a good scathing verse if
he could think of one.

I Revisted
old haikus of mine. Bitter
I was, but no more.

The Puppy returns
We are all overjoyed now
Quit humping my leg!

A lot of Ex-Lax
and patience means that Saint is
now wet for Droppy.

I love the smell of
Steaming belly hole haiku
In the morning, neh?

Who is the jackass,
that thinks he has the right to
clean bad haiku page?

If I had a jar
I'd jam it up his sorry
ass and shatter it.

open my windows
penetrate my raw socket
upgrade me roughly

frank frank your chick stank
for that i taxed you niggah
and smoked up your dank

still morning madness
warm beer and dirty pipehits
hope i can survive