Pretty boy moaning
In your dreaming fitful sleep
And inside my pants

Pretty boy moaning
In your dreaming fitful sleep
And inside my pants

What do you expect?
When you threw her down the stairs
what were you thinking?

I mean..
Kori did tell everyone
how small your dink is

All New Darth Manson
Followed by Haiku Skelter
Figpucker Channel

Darth is writing these
Always has tricks up his sleeves
Praise the Dark Lord

Ya goddamn faggot.
Get the hell off my site NOW.
Or else post haiku.

Did you take Sex Ed?
Women don't take Viagra
Darth... Talk, no Action

My wife makes fried cheese.
It's a Latin thing. Tasty.
Queso frito, mmmm.

I will bear your child,
and birth the fruit of our love
while in the bathroom.

I would cut your cheese
and even grill your sandwich,
though I'm not worthy.

You are Limburger,
aged Asiago and warm Brie
and Velveeta too.

Oh Darth, you're the cheese!
The most fragrant rarest cheese.
(Spread on a cracker.)

Oh Darth, handsome Darth:
Come to my arms, gentle prince.
First, wipe the shit off . . .

My haiku will reign.
Mother of all haiku: mine.
Wait -- what IS haiku?

Eleven haiku
and not one mention of "Darth"
or my love of cheese.

I am proud of you.
Your obsession is waning.
Viagra ran out?

Syllabic heaven:
the celestial formula
equals seventeen.

Kanagawa hai!
Shizuoka Saitama
Okayama-san.

The rising sun wins!
Rising sun has smoked your ass,
unpoetic ape.

Crystal Meth and thou:
Sha-mi-sen, koto music
My white-face geisha . . .

Ha ha: dick in ass . . .
Stupid gaijin butt-monkey:
You put in wrong place.

Cloud-pearls on Fuji . . .
Swaying bamboo grove of dusk . . .
Time to snort crystal!

Hey thar uncle Clem:
kin you git these Chinamen
offen muh front porch?

Samurai haiku:
Carp singing in cherry tree...
paradise was gained.

Commit sepukku:
Stick the haiku in and twist.
That's REAL poetry.

You stupid gaijin,
You can't even write haiku;
Smelly white monkey.

You prose invaders
will soon feel Haiku’s full wrath.
Haiku does not run.

When Angie got home
She found someone left a hint
A Summer's Eve douche

I know who it was
Patrick Swayze's ghost intrudes
Molds your dink like clay

Brought it on yourself
He watched you dirty dancing
at the Jollibee

Not a restful sleep
Sleep number is sixty nine.
even during naps

It was her moment
They were all hot for Teacher
She fingered her slit

He had been depressed
but she ignored the signals
and kept racewalking

Brenda's sad haiku:
Menopausal sister's screams...
sterile suicide.

Hot car mechanic
Slid out from under my car
with a huge boner

ATTENTION ! Haiku.
We make haiku in this place.
Less syllable please.

What about space head?
Will your spooje just float along?
Space dinks always hard?

I've a yin for yen
yang poon Tang orange breakfast drink
think pink stink skate rink.

I bought a dildo.
I thought you would enjoy it.
But you just want cake.

I feel important
Never been an apprentice
I feel like boasting

You will not act like
Evil Dark Lord Figpucker.
There can be just one!

It should be legal
To cook and eat your children
if they are naughty.

Or the neighbors' kids.
Or just kids in general.
Now I am hungry.

The fecal transplant
What if it makes me act like
that Darth Figpucker?

You could very well
have health issues if your farts
have a bad odor.

Perhaps you need a
fecal transplant to restore
intestinal health.

I'll be your donor.
Tell your friends and family
that I gave you shit.

Just one more question
Does fart smell indicate health?
How are you alive?

Flatulence is art.
When compared to these haiku.
Just to clear the air.

Just letting you know
None of this was in the lease
Give deposit back!

All people should die!
And dye their hair bright purple.
And pretend they are gay.

If we murder God,
who can we blame for our faults?
Surely not Satan!

Homemade pasta sauce
over whole wheat spahetti
and tiramisu.

Scrambled eggs with lox.
Unlocked breakfast potential.
And bloody mary.

I want a cupcake.
Chocolate with coffee icing.
And an espresso.