“Hippos go Berserk” has a less bloody ending than I expected.
The sweet potato Changes not texture nor hue Passed through a baby.
I console myself How it bodes well for yard work This raking the face
Little tiger cub Why must you sharpen your claws Always on your face?
Crying face beet red, A bottle suddenly soothes like daddy with beer.
A clean, fresh outfit As pure as the driven snow Until he throws up.
The jabbering flails And endless protestations! Crap, why did they stop?
My new sweet baby In his jungle of blankets Grunts like a boar.
We walk in the Bjorn As women leer boldly, aroused. A terrible waste.
My new sweet baby Confined to his swaddling Grunts like a mad man. Your weekly dose of Imperfekt Parenting’s Haiku.