If you know my blog at all, you know I ain’t down with the haiku. There’s a reason for that, and it’s rather simple. I’m shit for when it comes to budgeting my words. When it comes to thoughts put to paper, I spend more than a Washington bureaucrat after a three Martini breakfast.
That’s why my attempts at poetry and haiku are (unintentionally) hilarious. I don’t dig on greeting cards, I have nothing to talk about on Twitter and I cannot for the life of me figure out how the whole 5 to 7 to 5 thing makes any sense. But . . . Imma try a haiku on for size since it’s Tuesday. And as far as horoscopes are concerned, I’ve given Taurus enough beatings. (Gemini? You’re in my batter’s box).
Without further to do, a haiku.
Things overheard in line at Starbucks
Skim, soy and angry
A specific pettiness
These people suck balls