Daily haiku

how much do I know
about the Greek alphabet?
not one iota

known to be flummoxed
by microwave cookery
Roy stuck to physics

a lump of Play-Doh
injected with afterbirth
an ersatz donut

want bionic arms?
step into my atelier
I’ll fix you right up

for your fealty
I shall reward you greatly
milkshakes are on me

the Supreme Court judge
was known for his malfeasance
and his peach cobbler

Victor decided
after some introspection
to lose the toupee

the Stadium Pal:
his temerarious plan
for Free Slurpee Day

her insomnia
surrendered to somnolence
thanks to chloroform

remember in May
when we learned ameliorate?
those were some good times

Bill drops the shovel
his rictus tells a story
of a prank gone wrong

go on, join the herd
flock to this absurd nostrum
they call “Tylenol”

a varicolored
utopia displayed by
this college brochure

Jim the gigolo
known for his garrulousness
gets little business

it’s my condition
that forces me to abscond
with your hosiery

in grandpa’s backyard
we could see lineaments
of his victims’ bones

Trent Reznor lies down
woebegone at the mere thought
of selling millions

Juilliard’s top grad
was surprisingly callow:
“What’s a ‘casting couch’?”

she dislikes my shoes
her commination consists
of sweatshop photos

though quite voluble
Charles Manson is not the best
commencement speaker

ineluctably
he would wake at 5 AM
covered in winged ants

Aerosmith’s neighbor
was one irascible guy
and soon they were dead

brewery blowup
an exigent incident
requiring pretzels

an altercation
in front of Planned Parenthood
defused by tickles

the cheerful naif
provided his home address
to Elder Warren

though unpopular
among antiquarians
garbage men prevail

the best emo band
beyond all peradventure
is The Pinky Swear

a vain ice cream man
responsive to blandishments
crystal meth discount

“Lawrence Welk” reruns
inspire ingenuous awe
at the nursing home

durance was required
to keep Beloved fans out
of Oprah’s dumpster

pudding disaster
a glutinous mess amidst
quivering entrails

he died in daylight
yet his ghost is seen betimes
wearing pajamas

he had great patience
but he could not countenance
Jerry Bruckheimer

the thrifty mothers
agglomerated quickly
as diapers rained down

that gentleman’s head
tumid from a spider bite
blocked my view of C.H.U.D.

a lost Lucifer
a fettered cartographer
an infernal map

you recreant dog
for eating the last waffle
I shall have your head

it’s quite a hairpiece
successfully dissembling
lobotomy scars

to be lionized
for a well-manicured lawn
the suburban dream

capes, tights, scowling masks
evil fears the banner of
the Saturnine Squad

camouflage is cool
but the snake’s real artifice
is Three Card Monty

the dominatrix
suddenly suffused in guilt
removed the ball gag

my Irish pallor a flag of triumph that taunts
the enemy sun

the shape of that cloud
a presage from God:
“Your girl? She’s a guy.”

behold the daycare
a vast menagerie of
future nobodies

consoling father
by resurrecting mother
seemed a bit untoward

a basin aboil
sodium-soaked pumice pores
a blithe ablution

his camarilla
suggested he get rid of
his Krokus t-shirt

for the old-guard Jews
triskaidekaphobia
runs rampant in boys

hey, it’s Hot Dog Man!
where is his concomitant
Baked Bean Boy Wonder?