Haiku Collection #5

Hoppes number nine
Pure joy of a boy in love
With holding a gun

Forged black steel
Cranks with an exactness
Wakeful life demands

The fly’s life is short
Under the smack of a hand.
Who could’ve said why?

Brooks Brothers on me
Looks dull beside the horseman
In the Grand Hyatt

The dog licks my tongue,
Sex oozes from azure
Tones intangible

Could I just lie down,
Feel the ants on my toes,
See a last sunset?

Drive deep into this
Dark jungle affair with my
Imagination