Routine (March 29, 2006)

My bedtime thwarted—
friendly instant messages.
That's what friends are for.



Crossword-puzzle class.
the Minnesota Daily.
Lecture provides ambience.



Giant burrito;
double meat, guacamole.
Ten dollar monster.



Grey glow though my blinds
pissed off I do my routine.
Bike seat wet from rain.



My computer works:
harvesting information.
Fishing for torrents.

Doom III (March 23, 2006)

Zombie hamburger
Chain-saw ends their moans and growls
Trusty Beavertooth.



A zombie crumbles;
I scan through his PDA:
Dr. Frank Lamia.



I'd give my pinky
for a case of shotgun shells.
Mag-light lacks in range.

Blizzard (March 15, 2006)

Lonely stoplight
cycling though it's pattern
for a single car.



Poker mistreats me.
All statistics fall apart
when you're running bad.



As soon as snow melts
the clouds unleash punishment .
A ten-inch surprise.

Last Day 'for Break (March 9, 2006)

Queen of diamonds cries;
the diamond king unfaithful.
Slut—Queen of hearts


Dozing through classes
I look forward to coffee.
Make up for my loss.


Buttons on my coat
ponder their experience
with me—and before.


Low-life professor.
I try to pass the class-time
by wishing ill-will.

Hate School (March 6, 2006)

A gigantic mug—
too big for coffee or tea
perfect size for soup.


Multiple choice test,
like jigsaw word puzzle.
I am good at those.


Douche-bag manager
false sense of accomplishment
an enormous head.