For your abbreviated reading pleasure, here are a few more police blotter haiku.  A year has passed since I’ve published new ones.  Life’s been a little hard lately.  But every one in awhile I’m inspired to spit a few out.  I almost have enough for another book.  Almost.

Rest assured that America has not changed; and in newspapers large and small, harried city editors continue to publish  three-line crime stories about people who are neither too good nor too bad but simply, at a key moment, out of touch with good sense and impulse control.  Enjoy.

“So, what shall we eat?”
It seems a harmless question.
Yet police were called.

I’m fine, she told them
And ran down the street laughing
in her underwear.

Go home, sleep it off,
the cop said, but hours later
their paths crossed again.

Too many shrooms, man.
He needs some help, plus help for
his spectral girlfriend.

As he ran the reds,
they noticed from the sidewalk
that his eyes were closed.

He can’t find his wife!
And his wife is fine with that,
the police would learn.

At the wheel, asleep.
As a cold rain bathes her through
the open sunroof.

Sex on the white line.
While their bicycles rest by
the side of the road.

He and his vodka
watched movies all day at the
Elvis Cinema

Inside Laundry Land
a hand scrawls swear words backwards
‘cross the fogged windows.