Coffee break at two
Good Christ, my epidermis!
Do not drink and drive.

a final drip falls
fleeing the last icicle
spring music awaits

Up at 5am
Fighting overwhelming urge
To return to bed.

I danced Bachata
Close hold, that

Haiku

The last one

Passion grows within
I look at her heaving breasts
Her lips are on fire

Nothing much to say
One line, two lines, then one more
This is bad haiku

My cat can lay eggs
ahoy mighty meadow lark
my cat can lay eggs

Vernal equinox
Pal of USA, bollocks!
Pretentious display

Relax in a bath
I hope I don't fall asleep
But that would feel good

I have never seen
so much water, moss, yard fish
a christmas so green

Even the smallest
puddles in the street eat cars
they don't mess around

The moss green sidewalks
are slowly becoming brown
the rain will stop soon

smoldering glances
scorch the air in between us
anticipation

after breakfast and
before lunch, I usually
have elevenses

Steamy windows
her lips are kissed
She says nothing

Fight we shall
in picturesque shade
of the Persian arrows
Picturesque

Now that The Word
appeared in the Press
Nobody knows

Be back in my heart
like tomorrow

must have a season
or otherwise it's senryu
this is not haiku

Alone in office
Rhythmless dancing ensues
Kinda like Elaine

All my friends are young
Don

Girl and radio
Both solitary singers
A blush no-one hears.

The last three lovers
Were 20, 10 and 30
Years younger than me

So bored here at work
Make use of company time
Writing bad haiku.

You spend nine months there
The rest of your adult life
Trying to get back

I can remember
The feel of her nakedness
Body to body

I didn

Blond, slim, attractive
She was the older woman
Just four years older

I have just realized
I lost my virginity
41 years ago

I work through the list
The chuckles come readily
Such cleaver Haiku

With your spear

beneath my wings not
the wind beneath my bottom
that'd sort 'em out

Timeless melody
Goes: "Oops, I did it again"
Britney, we miss you!

Love will build a bridge
and show the enemy the
wind beneath my wings

This taco was once
a hunk of blue meat with three
feathers sticking out

This grey concrete block
is sitting in my closet
lacking poetics

I think we need more
Common human decency
and less abstract "love"

Vlad said fascism
is just capitalism
only in decay

We're so desperate
for this: an anesthetic
against loneliness.

When it is time to
hang the capitalists, they
will sell us the rope.

Workers of the World
Unite. You have nothing to
lose but your chains eh?

The passersby see us
springing into each other
The Spring is coming

A Dutchman with no ear
Replied to Vincent
82 million dollars

Babao they yell behind me
sounds like a jerk
Not, but the Fighter

5

White narrow skin
sinking into darkness
Like a candy bar

Wild flowers
her blouse
Words get in the way

You are pulling my leg
the storm is coming
Across the land