She Wrote Me By Mistake: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku Lament

She was the mother/
of my Muse, but I’ve been the/
father of nothing.

How’s That Beam In Your Eye? Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Living in Utah/
means everyone asks: “Where is/
your white shirt and tie?”

Am I the only/
man who drowns his sorrows in/
root beer and cheddar?

When you eat dinner/
hiding from thumbnail moons, you/
know that* it still hurts.
OR
*feel how

“Are you still sleeping?”/
my Mom called to me. Alas:/
“I’m not anymore!”

She said seeing me/
with butterflies and mountains/
recalled Patch Adams.

How many people/
applaud trees silhouetted/
against the sunset?

Three Spanish women/
walking on the strand, time waves/
captured forever.

When you drive *in a/
ragtop in the sun, you’ll get/
a nice farmer’s tan.
OR
*with your top down

Your assignment for /
today is: Write. If you don’t/
write, you won’t write well.