American Haikus Or



Sometimes when I’m feeling happy

I can relate the entire world

Around me to my own joy.




The woman on the first floor

Hates her life, her kids, her job

But why should she affect me?




Every once and I while, I wake up

And realize that nobody knows

Who the fuck Max Goldberg is.




If I’m in a good mood I should

Spend an afternoon writing poetry

Not wasting it off on Internet bullshit.




Life goes on, or so the Beatles said

Meanwhile, I’m in a California apartment

Worrying that life is moving a little too fast.




There is really no moment in

This whole fucking universe

That wouldn’t benefit from coffee.




I feel bad when I can

Tell that somebody is a bitch

Without even looking at her.




Some people say that such short

Pieces of thought should be seen but

Not heard. I say fuck that, express yourself.


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