The Haiku Review of 2017: Adios, You Motherfucker of a Year

One of the few traditions around these parts of Left Blogsylvania is that we kick the ass of the year out the door in the least wordy way possible. That means haiku, the tiny poems that can put on big boots. It's a way of purging before we get to the next year, filled with hope. No, really. Man, every fuckin' day of 2018 is one closer to the midterms where we can actually make America great again.

And you can join in the fun. Send me legit haiku: one line of 5 syllables, one line of 7 syllables, and one line of 5 syllables, in that order. They can be as filthy, funny, or fucked-up as you like. You can be serious, silly, or sanctimonious. The best ones get published on here over the next few days, so lemme know what name you want on it (in case your boss or mate or Mom sees it) and where you're from. Like "Cockknocker from Shitheel, AK" or "Linda from San Francisco" or something.

Send your entries to "rudepundit(at)yahoo(dot)com." I'm the sole judge and I'm susceptible to whim, mood, and whatever I'm drinking or ingesting or smoking.

Let's get this haiku party started:

Trump's inaugural.
Rain, "carnage," and "some weird shit."
Before empty space.

Russia stuff is bad
But I care more about why
Many believed Trump

It was racism.
Don't be blind. Don't be stupid.
It was racism.

See? That was easy-peazy, as dearly departed Bob would say. Send 'em in, and I'll put a bunch up, along with some more of my own.