Bad love haiku, or why I married him.

Before we lived together, CC and I used to text bad haikus back and forth. I would usually start it off while I was waiting for my bus at the freak show that is the Port Authority. I had the count backwards but he would let it slide. They were like this:

Pigeon in the bus station

Hopping on one leg

Could hit him with my Kimber.

They mostly were about pigeons, because the pigeons that wander inside the Port Authority never leave and they’re all missing parts and get very aggressive trying to get your snacks. I was thinking about that the other day while he was making me food, so I wrote him one, sans pigeons. I like the ones with the pigeons better but the form was wrong, and this one has breakfast.

He makes me tasty

heart-shaped eggs and home fries

with Sriracha face:

He tolerates me.

I stab it and make it bleed

yolk and take pictures:

Happy, bleeding breakfast.