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?