Welcome to yet more police blotter haiku, true tales of crime and error in a mere 17 syllables. The pic above is from my book of such haiku, perpetually on sale at the Great Beast. The haiku below are not from the book; I’m still writing new ones.

I wouldn’t have nearly as much material to work with without all the states who pass “open carry” laws. I should be grateful — I guess.

Booze, old war stories.
A gun for sale, passed around.
And then, the flesh wound.

A naked man seen
running down the state highway
appeared to be cold.

A man dressed in plaid.
Holding a Christmas present
and talking to it.

Jumping on his van,
cursing, did not help him reach
the keys locked inside.

Locked in a hot car,
a dog hits the hazard lights.
The cops scratch their heads.

It’s never over
till your ex-wife doesn’t know
where your girlfriend lives.

Busted for fishing
right next to the gigantic
“NO TRESPASSING” sign.

A thief made good use
of the sledgehammer that he
stows on the front porch.

By law he can leave
guns in an unlocked car for
thieves to steal, and did.

The constant gunfire.
It annoys her, even though
it’s just the neighbors.

Gunshots pierce the night.
“Happy New Year!” BLAMBLAMBLAM.
“Hey, get the shotgun!”