some kind of sense

eating hard boiled eggs
reading good poetry too
makes some kind of sense

I eye

I eye you he said
sat smiling strangely at me
i poked his eye out

prophylactic

prophylactic sense
stretch it over your head now
guards against ideas

haiku like you

it is very short
you say you’re not a midget
i am not convinced

the fall haiku

the fall’s mark e smith
he spouts scathing invective
scattershot mind-bomb

the jam haiku

weller and foxton
dig the new breed, setting sons
shoot eton rifles