Haiku with Keys to Freeze

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To each donor who donated $25 or more to my fundraising for Keys to Freeze I have written a haiku. One night recently, sitting crosslegged in my skinny 1-person tent, I got a bit carried away and wrote a whole bunch more haiku than necessary. And so the first 25 are far more reasonable than the final 15. So it goes. All are here below.

Wheel times eight we roll

As the white around us grow

Black tires through the snow

*

My bike might be steel

But my legs are tempered flame

This steep hill, in pain

*

Campground morning dew

A blanket glittering clear

Bird song in my ear

*

One drink too many

I thought this morn on my bike.

I fart, and slow down.

*

Now numb are my hands

From three miles of rumble strips

Gooch bruised, no dick

*

I ate twelve hotdogs

Before I ate seven more

I hope now I’m full

*

I want to poop here.

Inside, where there is real soap.

And not just old leaves

*

I always say yes

When asked if this is a race

But only to food

*

The people we meet

Until we open our mouths,

Think us impressive

*

Why pee in your bibs

When the whole world is right here

Nature, one toilet.

*

I slept-walked downstairs

And opened up the freezer

I dreamed of ice cream

*

H.O.T. is true.

Today, desert days, simply

Put: Hydrate or Thirst

*

Thirty three seconds

Is all my Jetboil takes

To heat up my soup

*

Ever wonder why

So many stars in the sky

Hide from us at night?

*

The cold, rain, wind, sleet

All puddles around our feet

Too far to retreat

*

You said to me, “Flarp!”

In response I called out “Tarp!”

Flarptarp, flarptarp, flarp.

*

It’s cold out tonight.

Single amidst the couples.

Tyler, hold me tight.

*

There’s dirt everywhere

Clothes, gear, butt, and in my hair.

Kiss me, if you dare.

*

The wind said to me

You remind me of a tree

Moving slow, in breeze.

*

How would you like this:

Peanut butter and jelly

Seven times a day?

*

I’ve been craving this:

A cold gob of spaghetti

And some sliced white bread.

*

What am I doing?

My butt looks like some ground chuck

And my gooch? Well, yuck.

*

Let’s fly, you and I

One hundred miles tonight

Then wake, a new sky.

*

Yellow sands are now

Desert days and setting suns

Miles best left unsung.

*

How about a beer

I asked myself every night

But instead I sleep.

*

Mildew here and there

In bottles, panniers, and tent

Inhale that green air.

*

I saw the moose, first

But he was the first to snort

I screamed, peed, and ran.

*

Snow, snow, everywhere

Pale tails of night’s moonlit hair

Falls soft, without care

*

Back in the tall grass

It scratches against my hips

A long way from home

*

Just a place to rest

Is all we really need

Four heads, all asleep

*

The road stretches on

On and on and on and on

And on and on and …

*

I bought four hotdogs

And ate them all and now ride

My bike in meat fog

*

Unlike the others

This wind is to my back and

Not fucking my face

*

Ten hours I sat

And watched the world move by at

A pace far too slow

*

I camp on the grass

But am next to the highway

Smelling like dirty farts

*

When do the bugs say

“Okay! Enough is enough!”

Never. Suck me dry

*

What are my friends for

But to laugh at my stale jokes

As we ride fresh roads

*

She wanted a kiss

And I, so tired I missed

Which, truth … lucky her

*

It’s raining again.

Fuck. It’s raining once again.

Goddamn fucking rain.

*

Got a cyclist’s butt

And, of course, more important,

Got a cyclist’s gut

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