Daily haiku

the coach is pleased with
my ameliorated
tobacco habit

don’t look so wayworn
it’s only five blocks to the
methadone clinic

the undead emerge
the spring in their step avers
that summer is here

Coors-sponsored frisson
meets Dow Chemical-sponsored
fortification

in the Great Conflict
my trembling enemies were
engulfed by my claque

I won’t be traduced
by your indictment of my
NAMBLA membership

the lability
of our cashier Bruce Banner
scares off customers

I dropped the joystick
unwilling to supplicate
for Tron permissions

the grinning demon
extols the pleasure of sin
while sipping lite beer

the morning after
the pusillanimous shriek
the Yoda tattoo

detritus again?
hey Dictionary.com!
we’ve seen this before

a teenage couple’s
matutinal grope session
and a machete

he talks a big game
with just a scintilla of
Jedi in his blood

the old archbishop’s
atavistic tendencies
make him speak Latin

his youngest daughter
enervated by tear gas
ate her broccoli

world’s last horse gallops
followed by a cavalcade
of sprinters in spurs

our dear grandmother
seems to be in fine fettle
despite her goiter

I get funny looks
while sitting, masticating
upon your entrails

fire-protection spell
Harry Potter smirks from his
extant book cover

jealous obloquy
it has fallen on deaf ears
I won’t stop dancing

poor choice of shampoo
the scalp’s detritus becomes
the skull’s corona

I’ll hide here for days
my impervious redoubt
keeps out Jehovahs

the heckler’s remarks
may have been malapropos
for the funeral

Panglossian hordes
parade into the market
in search of Slim-Fast

maudlin mechanic
he lost his virginity
under that Buick

your roll of gauze is
the perfect complement to
my massive head wound

civilian Humvees
are surely a shibboleth
of well-endowed men

amanuensis!
come here and take a letter:
“no more green Skittles”

the subject of japes
has mastered Esperanto
and who’s laughing now?

boss stands corrected
but for my magniloquence
I receive nothing

I forgot your meds
but I will not temporize
on your surgery

spry, laughing children
an aliment of the soul
and also the wolves

one rake, ten acres
you better believe I’ve learned
to contemn the leaves

my head is a peach
swarm of pestiferous flies
descends to devour

never you worry
everything’s copacetic
Grace Jones has arrived

stupid cover band
“Rock Lobster” forces you to
join the lumpen dance

taketh now the reins
my stygian bondservant
we ride to Wal*Mart

garish redesign
all furbelow, no function
Rob Weychert dot com