Upon Having Brain Fog: Romantic IMprov Haiku

If you’re in deep fog,/
spread your limbs wide and embrace/
new, deep sensations.

Poetry Is Not A Comparison Contest: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

Her comments about/
comparing our poetic/
talents begged questions.

Were she to propose/
to me with verses tawdry,/
I’d accept quickly.

She said I’d reject/
text proposals, but what’s more/
romantic than words?

I hoisted a glass/
of frothy red juice toward/
the West, her saucy.
OR
I hoisted a glass/
of frothy red juice westward,/
t’ward her fieriness.

I see so many dating profiles where people categorize themselves as being a “Hopeless Romantic”. To such women, I wrote this:

Nobody/
should ever be/
a hopeless romantic./
That would be tragic./

Always be hopeful.
Then life’s more full.
Others will draw near
when we’re full of cheer.

The optimistic me
is who women would rather see.
And it also is true:
I prefer a hopeful you.

It brings me heartfelt sorrow and duress
to watch romantics wallow in hopelessness.

I think there was a/
moment when our eyes met, but/
then she looked away.

At what point does his/
flattering persistence turn/
to obnoxiousness?

I do this, and I/
do that, just like her former/
guy. Sigh. Say goodbye.

Die tiefe Frage/
ist, ob man wirklich auf Deutsch/
Romantisch sein kann.