Bad Poetry: Sunday Haiku
But, more recently, the bad poetry and lyrics keep coming at the oddest moments (it's a result of personal turmoil and life transitions, and my inability, at the moment, to write well, bar the odd brief spurt, or compose decent music, both of which usually keep me sane and have previously been my creative outlets) and it all makes me laugh, anyway. So join in. If I can't write about Cape Town I may as well write about angst. And if I feel bad about it later I can just delete it.
Sunday Haiku From A Moment In The Suburbs
Overweight white guy
Sitting topless in the sun
Please put a shirt on