…imperfect diet 2…

seen ‘super size me’?
i’ve had a horrible thought
that’s so frickin’ me

-or-

seen ‘super size me’?
a chronicle of my life
with the same results

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22 thoughts on “…imperfect diet 2…

  1. qazse says:

    su
    per frick
    me

    this is an experimental haiku – 121

  2. liquidquick says:

    care to
    biggie-size
    your meal?

    -232, and now I have the ‘super freak’ song stuck in my head… thanks so much…

  3. qazse says:

    it is rather freaky

    biggie? smalls?
    I cannot choose
    dead man meal!

    343

  4. Man of No Faith says:

    Macdonalds can’t
    Hold a candle to
    Chinese buffet!

    454 – woohoo!

  5. liquidquick says:

    the chinese buffet
    synonymous with ‘fat’
    makes me all tingly

    -565 – this is going to get weird when we hit double digits.

  6. qazse says:

    676
    ling ching changabang soup
    it is what I am craving
    the mind is a crouton

    just to let you know,
    after typing121
    it disappeared

  7. liquidquick says:

    we could all do with more soup
    not the usual fast food fare
    or (god forbid!) eat veggies…

    -787

  8. qazse says:

    898 or man made soup

    dam the grand canyon fill it up
    add two days of America’s trash
    boil in sun top with men in suits

    note to Man of No Faith:
    jump back in oh ye of no faith

  9. […] note: this is an 898 haiku which is part of an ongoing renga found at sorry if your’e bored. The renga, “imperfect diet 2″ started as a trditional 575. Then some zen knucklehead took it down to 121 and it has expanded from there to 232 and so on… […]

  10. qazse says:

    gee whiz, I forgot the old 0-1-0 format. here goes:

    fries

  11. Man of No Faith says:

    Heat of Florida’s sun bakes my skin.
    O Merciless God, why do I go to
    The Chinese buffet of hot and sour soup?

    9-10-9

  12. liquidquick says:

    if one were to ask the age-old question
    ‘what type of restaurant do the gods prefer?’
    the answer is surely ‘chinese buffet’.

    10-11-10

  13. mead says:

    As I lay dying, my blood ebbing from
    me into a much too quickly growing pool,
    I dream of the Chinese buffet of God.

    10-11-10

    – Man of No Faith

  14. qazse says:

    11-12-11

    coming to describe the indescribable
    reflect on the simple days of 5-7-5
    and dread 99-100-99

  15. mead says:

    Of man’s first disobedience and the soup of
    That forbidden Chinese Buffet, whose immoral taste
    Brings fat into the world, and makes us write haiku.

    12 – 13 – 12

    Sorry I made rear the ugly head of Milton, but towards his mode our absurd poetry goes.

    Think epic haiku.

  16. liquidquick says:

    what will our grandchildren think when they re-read our words
    perhaps we were experts in the fine art of food discourse?
    or maybe we just had too much free time on our hands.

    13-14-13

  17. qazse says:

    14-15-14

    our bodies are a wonderous and bountiful temple
    owned by no one ,let the gods fight for its occupancy
    you only want it for late night drive- thru Chinese Buffet

    note: I was not sure if “owned” counted as two syllables or one. I counted it as two because I always say “own-dah” even though people look at me funny.

  18. mead says:

    15 – 16 – 15

    Silence spreads across the battlefield, soldiers gaping in awe
    at what they see. Blood foes moments before, but now are together
    terrified at the approach of the baleful General Tso.

  19. liquidquick says:

    leading vast hordes of fat men with forks to pillage all the cupboards
    our brave buffet chefs ready their woks and prepare themselves for battle.
    let us pray their defense is successful, or we shall go hungry.

    16-17-16

  20. mead says:

    The field of battle lay littered with the day’s devastation and waste.
    Overturned chairs, far-flung forks, soiled plates piled in unwashed, tittering towers.
    The Chinese Buffet lay ravaged, yet tomorrow’s warriors hunger.

    17 – 18 – 17

  21. liquidquick says:

    the cost of all this buffet carnage is high, look at the aid trucks coming.
    world relief groups beg the nations to donate to the cause of this tragedy
    but blood thirsty food critics wait on the hill to later get their fill first.

    18-19-18

  22. qazse says:

    then with a burst of sunlight the color of a plastic packet of mustard
    the skies opened up and a great voice (greater then James Earl Jones ) spoke to the masses
    Men, know that I am about to make major renovations to the cosmos…

    19 20 19 I think. My fingers began to cramp up on the third check.

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