Anxiety

nervous death

want to

can’t

no time

waste not, want not

waste, want

Most of my Haikus

Have been superficial things

Clever but pointless

Procrastination

Stealing from the future

Instant gratification

Long term stagnation

Regret

The old poet

was edgy and sincere in his youth

was a vegetarian wanderer

Now complains about kids these days

His generation already opposed a war

This new crop of protesters bore him

He already said ABC, man

So why bother with DEF?

Kids these days….

The ballad of fruit salad

is a sweet and citrus tune

sung by cowboy cooks

under the orange moon

They sing of lonesome fruit

that might be good in pie

But when it’s in fruit salad

no one will even try

The ballad of fruit salad

for the fruit that’s left behind

a tribute to the grapefruit

scooped lovingly from its rind

They sing of pomegranates

that no one understands

those complex and selfless fruits

rejected by cowhands

Oh the ballad of fruit salad

is a sad and juicy song

For nothing could be sadder

than when fruit does not belong

—

This flower will take you to more Daisypoems: