"Moon!" my son demands
and there's no choice but show him
the clouded night sky

Albert Kinsey knew

Albert Kinsey knew
if we are all perverted
the label won't work

Why me?

A voice in my head
says "Why me? Why me? Why me?"
I'm ignoring it

Pucker up

You can kiss my bum
if you want a new haiku
every other week


Thoughts are like fishes
in the subconscious they swim
awaiting a line