Haiku for May

Early morning frost,
The wire bends into a smile
as the crow takes flight.

Tom Cruise is Trapped Inside of Our Guest Bathroom.

Tom Cruise is trapped inside of our guest bathroom.
The room has novelty doors that swing like Western movie saloons.
Sometimes, we hear fire-fights from behind the bathroom doors.
Other times, we hear the distinct sounds of Tom Cruise eating our fancy, lavender-scented guest-soap, for he has confused them with chocolatey swag-bag truffles.

Tom Cruise is trapped inside of our Jacuzzi bathtub.
The nozzles that spray jets of Jacuzzi water have all been vandalized.
The Jacuzzi bathtub is now booby-trapped, but I do not blame Tom Cruise, for he is far too pretty to perform inconsequential, household atrocities, such as these.

Tom Cruise is trapped inside of our Water Pik.
The guest bathroom is now full of wide, movie-star smiles.
Apparently, this old-time tooth-cleaner is slightly outdated, and as of late has actually proven itself to be abrasive and damaging to impressionable gum-lines everywhere.

Tom Cruise is trapped inside of our medicine cabinet.
The medicine cabinet is wide-open, and it finally feels free.
Every last beauty product in our guest bathroom has been discarded.
Tom Cruise has decided that my Oxy Clean pads are stealing my brain's precious oils, necessary for cosmic re-enlightenment.

A Spawn Song

As I
squint

into the
salmon-tinted

sunset,

I hastily
imbibe

your bubbly,
ruby-red

smile,

before
crushing it,

with manly
gusto,

against

the faded
pink halo

upon
my sloping

forehead.

New Poem in Dark Sky Magazine

My new poem Carrot Top Filth Emboldens Terrorists appears here in Dark Sky Magazine 7.0. Enjoy.

Food Courtly Love

for Ally Fleming,

*

Last night,
I awoke from unsettling dreams
to discover that my wife
had become a
muffin.

I screamed,
and I screamed at her,
but yet
she remained
a blueberry
muffin.

Then I twisted
off her delicious top
in misguided,
fruity
frustration.

Then I ate her,
because I had to,
and because without
the best parts
of her,
her life would
have been
cruel
and

unusual.

The Universal Hero

Scott Lancer
was an ant,

who could squat thrust
his cancer

like a
champ

New Poem

I have a new poem The Empty Panini
set to appear in the upcoming issue

of Inscribed.
Hooray.