It's cold tonight.

[howeverbrief]

One of the ideas I've been kicking around for a while--

"Punchline"

I found Paul face down
sprawled wide across our table, his hands
sticky and cold

"Quit messing around," I said
prodding his already stiff back, the blood
draining out of my face, no longer bold

Then a phone call and a flurry of lights
policemen, paramedics. Finally, the sad-eyed coroner
who clasped my hands with surgical precision

And only a word of explanation, "Anaphylaxis."
hearing that, so final and bleak
I had to laugh despite my tears

He finally ate that peach
he'd been craving
all these years

And another dumb haiku--

"In Between"
Oh, relationships
I won't be your last resort
Why can't I be first