Afghanistan Quicksand.

Afghanistan Quicksand
by james bezerra

What is it
about Afghanistan
that make everybody want to be in it
even though they have no plan
for how to run it?

It’s like an endless parade
of crap and sorrow: Soviets and Talibans
and Americans
all fighting over a nation with no shade!

If I were in the mood to invade,
I would find a place with more oil
and less prone to violent turmoil,
then I’d have it made!

Sure, sure, I know
America had no
choice but to go
and I agree we had to blow
the hell out of Osama’s hole.

But I just don’t understand
what about Afghanistan
makes it like quicksand
for every nation
that invades that land.
So let’s just all agree to stay away;
it’s just a bunch of rocks anyway.

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My Ironic Parrot by james bezerra.

My Ironic Parrot
by james bezerra

I have an ironic parrot
who repeats everything that I say,
but repeats it in a way
that makes me think
that she’s making fun of me.

“You look very nice today,” I say.
And she says, “You look very nice today.”

My ironic parrot,
she has a way
of repeating the things that I say
that makes the meaning go the other way.

“I will totally miss you today!” I say.
And she says, “I will totally miss you today.”

I used to have an ironic parrot.
She used to parrot everything that I would say,
but in a decidedly ironic way.
So one fine day,
I opened the window and let her fly away.

Now I have a Labrador retriever
who doesn’t parrot anything that I say.
He is so adoring –
but also kind of boring –
in a totally non-ironic kind of way.

Finally one day,
I said, in a kind of mean way,
“Damn it Labrador retriever, you’re just no fun!”
And from the window ledge behind me came a reply,
“You’re just no fun.”
And there she sat, awaiting something else to say;
my ironic parrot.
“I did not miss you at all,” I said and lied.
“I did not miss you at all,” she replied.



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More Workplace Haiku!

Back by popular demand (not really)!

Downloading reports
is a kind of vacation
because the work stops.

Go little download!
Transfer your bytes like the wind!
All your info, mine!

Inside new files:
Black forests of numbers,
raw and unfriendly.

The bits of data
so small they dip way below
two decimals.

It makes you wonder
how these people get so rich
by splitting pennies.

Other people, they
wait tables or stock long shelves,
but I add fractions.

Math has been the thing
which pays my rent and my bills
but shit, math is boring.

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My Unfortunate Proclivity for Poetry.

So today at work I took a few minutes on my break to dash off some workplace haiku.

Please enjoy!

Looking at Excel
all day makes my eyes catch fire.
I should take a break.

How was my workday?
Numbers, oh numbers
Were bothering me.

Am I cheating at
haiku if my words are not
multisyllabic?

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