kookakoo haiku

fake dada sometimes inspires me to write haiku, mainly to annoy him. I scribble ’em on little sticky notes. And now I typed ’em fer a bloggie. So there.

counting on fingers
that’s what haiku is about
fun, but annoying

snortin’ coke is bad
it makes my fuckin’ tongue numb
can’t taste my damn beers

haiku perfection
must take less than two minutes
otherwise fuck it

i once took a dump
in a box in the office
goddam shredded wheat

i squeeze the haiku
onto colored stick-it notes
pretty, counted, words

it takes a pussy
to be drunken and drive home
without BOTH eyes closed

don’t let the dark in
thru the open kitchen door
or grandma will freak

wrote me a haiku
sent it to ’haikus are us’
they snubbed my white ass

i spanked a monkey
and choked me a chicken, too
now I got a mess

fell into a ditch
found a cigarette butt there
damp fuck wouldn’t light

if skeeters kill me
that is the least they can do
for global warming

haiku teachers ought
to write some haiku and not
talk shit about it

romance is a game
not meant for the weak-hearted
love’s never painless

i’m done with asswipes
worn trips to the thesaurus
the life is down here

takin’ freakin’ tests
is retarded as it gets
pass, fail, nothin’ learnt

I found me a muse
funky algorhythmic stuff:
a pot-bellied pig

five syllables, eh?
fuck abuncha syllables
i’m goin’ to bed