Monday, April 20, 2009

Five, Seven, Five.


Remiss in blogging,
So, instead, haikus for you.
My life in April:

Cold in Chicago.
Oh, right! No surprise there. Sigh.
That's why we need booze.

April showers, huh?
Who knew that included snow?
Why do I live here?

Fuck you, Midwest. Grrr.
I bet flowers are blooming
in Atlanta right now.

Behold! A nice spring
day. Surely this won't last. Ha.
Mother Nature. Mean.

Tax Day came and went.
I miss my refund. It ran
straight to Visa card.

Boy got last of stuff.
Breakups still suck, months later.
Why are eyes leaking?

Baking treats with friends
reminds me how fortunate
I am to be loved.

Easter morning church.
Sunrise service at the lake.
Woot! New beginnings.

Bike versus taxi.
Guess who won? Sounds worse than you
would think. Am badass cyclist.

Sewing for my quilt.
Bride friends need sewing help, too.
One woman thread fiend.

Friends came to visit.
YAY! But too much stress to clean.
Next time: maid service.

Four people in my
small 700-square-foot
condo. Friends, or die.

We saw Ira Glass!!
This American Life! LIVE!
Am NPR nerd.

Jay taught mutt to heel
in a block at a half. Huh?
Me? Four years. No luck.

No luck at making
birds for friend's wedding cake top.
They look like monsters.

Am murderer of
plants. Accidental, of course.
No green thumb for me.

Crashing book club in
Milwaukee next month. We are
reading Lolita.

My pants still won't fit.
Whatever. Time to kick this
funk in the ass. POW!

Saw flowers blooming.
That must mean there is still hope.
Spring's eternal, right?

Like haikus a lot?
Leave me one below. Best one
might just win a prize.

ADDENDUM:
Contest is on. Best haiku posted by Wednesday at midnight CT wins a crafty surprise.

5 comments:

Juliette said...

Eighty-five degrees
Sunny warm California
You should visit me

jay said...

You, the pack leader?
It's possible, if you try it.
Resist the licking.

The Modern Gal said...

Birthday's not 'til May?
It's never too early to
Celebrate Noodles

emfred said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
jay said...

Shame, shame, Modern Gal!
Your poem, a brazen kissup.
(Wish I thought of that.)