Every morning
I promise my eyes a nap ...
each day — a liar.
Surprisingly cold.
I wear my denim jacket
first time since may.
I pay the price for
irresponsibly long nights—
Lisa addiction.
Fingers inform me
I resolve to let them bet.
The air has gone dry.
I crack my knuckles.
Some people despise the sound.
I can tell which ones.
They think I take notes.
My writing hand gyrating—
This haiku becomes.
Through the blinds are trees
green and yellow twirling
covering the ground.
Every girls I see
I think about her naked—
Automatically.
Journalist speaker.
Such passionate examples
and "et-cetera."
Monday, September 18, 2006
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