the wicked witch of the west coast
after being rejected by six shy
of two baker's dozen
turned these british fiends into fruit baskets
in her new york state of mind

Modern Japanese
Haiku are less likely to
Follow syllabic norms

I sat in the front pew
and worshiped my god
and was promptly exiled
for indecent exposure.

A pungent petrichor,
The kind to remind you of why you are here.
I was told it is a sign of rebirth.
Deeply lodged axe wounds burrow into the ground below,
And sedimentary formations climb into the open wounds.

You get told to lie deadly still if the bear is large,
And create thunderous uproar if you have a bulkier countenance.
Survival of the fittest, huh?
If lightning is nature taking *** shots at something smaller than it,
I fear to high heaven what it’s hiding from when the skies are clear and I’m relishing in a light of false protection.

I hate a lot.
That's fine..
That's

Fine.

I'm not sure why
I hate so much or so
Carelessly,
It's kind of like wind really,

and trite analogies;

I'm a big gust of hate and
I bend my surroundings because
I can, and because
I want to, and because
I need to.

I contemplated hating less and
My inner voice told me that was lame so
I hated more for a bit, cussed at a mug, swore at a cat, and
I was convinced this was okay.

And it was okay.

I hate a lot.
That's fine..
That's

Fine.