Grabbing penises

That's quite gay. you prob'ly are

Yes I think you're gay

My first white Christmas

Breathless child of forty four

Happy Christmas friends

Louisiana-

Jalapeño-Pepper-Sauce-

Hot-Green-Sour-Liquid!

A dark string of crows

Over impassable fields

Of sepia brown

Filling frozen streets

A thousand poets cyc'ling

Bells ringing "Haiku!"

Two poets on bikes

Glide through cold ice crystal streets

Thinking up haiku

Basho's razor cut

Through weeping words with silence

Then cut the bullshit

Gray damp streets, lights on.

I remember my father,

Cycl'ing home from work

Winter looms again,

Through bare trees and darkness. Still,

I like it's drama

Through the cracked concrete

Seeps existential boredom

And the smell of piss