Twenty Haiku
Now she sits down, head
hung low as my soul,
picking at the grass
Her head’s on the desk
counting out the syllables
just like me
When the moment calls
ah, what use are syllables
let’s break the cycle
Five seven five five
five seven five seven five
five seven five five
Tick tock, going round
and round and round and round and
round and round and round
As eons crawl by
the moments repeat themselves
only for those who listen
Facsimile smiles
she told me this yesterday
and I know the secret
“Cut it out guys, it’s
serious as a heart attack”
that was good timing
A hole on the knee
a hole in her jeans
a hole in my soul, oh yeah
Counting out the words
what utter futility
what else in our lives?
Eight bars of light sit
on the ceiling, letting us
see what we are doing
Impeach Bush and Cheney
afterdowningstreet.org
says the orange bracelet
until they all come home, I
will wear this yellow bracelet
to show my solidarity
Hair stands on my hand,
blown by the breeze
of the air-conditioner
A silver cross is hung
from the fire alarm
blown as well on the breeze
Under the sun, we
play out our peaceful lives
never stopping to think
Dammit, go away
sit down, because you
are the freak
“Nice guys finish last”
stop talking to my lady
well, not really my lady
This feeling,
I must deal with it
Alone
Dangerous, dangerous lady!
Don’t you know you’re heading down
the road to heartbreak?
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