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An open letter to Jay Gatsby (The Great Gatsby)It still smells like human iron in your pool. / There's a crack in the concrete where the bullet stopped. / It still smells like human iron by the side of your pool, there's a stain.
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Write about socks, she said...Write about socks, she said... / Write about socks, she said. / She likes socks, I guess.
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The pizza haiku"Pizza is my life, / I will eat it all day long, / All the fat is mine."
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When boardwalk sex breathes.It's nearly summer. / The best time of the year; undoubtedly. / A festering of walking and breath,
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The MushroomI stand amongst, under my feet, my leaves of last year's death toll. / The dried old leaves of my own yore, to which belongs the great sea of mold. / Today and tomorrow, as I grow older, there is a shriveling in my head.
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The city light, the orange light.I can hear it tapping on the bedroom door of my conscience, / a silent wind that's playing Louis Armstrong on a broken record player. / There's an orange rain spilling from a street lamp into my bedroom through a un-curtained window.
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The wisdom of men and woman alike.Wisdom doesn't come from time, / no, / Wisdom comes from those who see a light,
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2 Political Haiku (Haiku 100, and 101)(Putin your foot down) / Son of BITCH Putin, / Don't fondle Ukraine will ya,
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A poem about COFFEEWhite foam and none. / The ocean air is thick and sweet as the sea kneads it's waves that corrode the entirety of my rib cage. / It botches stale breaths to chant hallelujah, screaming mercy, yelling bliss.
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Black TrumpetsThe black trumpets play jazz in between the death of a girl in Chicago, and the death of a boy in Paris. / The lights of the cities they called home were the only creatures that saw them pass. / The boy died of forgetfulness to breath in the cold, and the girl died of a drunken car.
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