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I'm the early bird
For once in my existence:
Keeps the worms at bay

Drifting fast through time and space
My mind is open

It's Twenty Nineteen
And so, here it comes again
the FiNiku strikes

The FiNiku strikes
The FiNiRick- will it strike?
We just cannot say.

FiNiku eats bugs
And climbs walls on sticky feet.
No, that's a gecko.

Easily confused;
Poetry and small reptiles -
Almost the same thing.

Returning again
Concepts held back like acorns
Maybe I am nuts.

Alex replied, Let's do FiNiRick
Which left me in such a predicament
For as we both knew
This place boasts FiNiKu
So I say - this is barely a limerick

Set up a new thread!
Or suffer the odium
And be limeracked....

Someone else, not me.
Done enough damage for now,
Starting FiNiku.

My wandering eyes
Dream of sugar plums, wait in
Antici pation

Solid as a rock,
This thread sits and does nothing!
Not a rolling stone.

Like a rolling stone;
Like the FBI; like the
CIA; dig it.

Stable or moving
FiNiKu's what I'm here for;
Count those syllables!

'Eleven plus two'
Anagram of 'Twelve plus one'
Coincidence? Yes

No coincidence!
Miraculous anagram!
Part of Grand Design!

I watch Grand Designs
This is my favourite part:
It's them and not me.

Is this the summer?
Canada sends strange weather.
All it does is rain!

FiNiku steams on.
Almost time to help out by...
Kicking FiNirick

I've concluded that
Two poetic forms are all
One needs to prosper.

Two poetic forms
Are all One needs to prosper?
Which One? FINIKU!!!!

Become One with All
"Heaven and Earth's fetation."
(I steal the best lines!)

Buddhist wants hot dog;
"Make me one with everything."
What a dumb old joke.

Take five, Jazz Quartet
Grab a snack from the vendor
Hot dogs for cool cats

Take five, give seven!
Metaphor for compassion
Mixed time signatures! Smile

Mixed time signatures?
They lead to offbeat madness.
You can count on it.

Mixed time signatures;
Gosh, I love them very much.
My bread and butter.

My bread and butter
Is bread and butter in fact.
Traditionalist! Smile

Been trying to think
Of a coherent haiku
Butter in my ears

Dog's acute hearing--
I'm caught eating raisin toast,
All butterfingers.

Burned the raisin toast
Set the toaster dial to six
Now it's raisin' hell.

I was raised in Hell,
It's a town in Michigan.
Would I lie to you?

Well, there are no lies
According to some people,
Just "alternative facts".

Your syllable count
For the last and final line:
Alternative five.

No, Stephen, you're wrong;
Alternative facts again;
Just five syllables.

Fie, this post-truth world,
Where maths takes a holiday!
...I should do the same

Don't understand why
Guvmint schools teach new maths but
Taxes use old maths

Is this world post-truth?
As old Bill might say...

Folks, there is no "Truth".
All of your "Reality"
Is in your own mind.

Then the mind is real?
What contains the container?
Post cereal box! Smile

It's an enigma;
Your ego thinks it exists
Although it does not.

Language, that bastard,
Confuses me, and then it

A recapitulation
Wholly off-topic.

I need to avoid
Fissiparious blues bands.
Nothing but sorrow.

Stay indehiscent!
(I tell my brain) and remain
A single fruit loop.

Better a fruit loop
Sweet, colorful, & yummy
Than a dull brained O

I think it's spelled "froot" -
The cacography's called for:
No fruit in Froot Loops!

(Also, no Froot Loops
in most non-US places;
Oh, Humanity....)

(And I've not said peep
about Froot mini donuts.
Oh, fellow humans...)

Why you've not said peep
About Froot mini donuts
Is because they're poop.

A bright blue donut:
Dye delivery device
I can do without

Barbara spake truth
About donut after-lives:
Something to dye for

I once ate froot loops,
Stolen from the grandchildren.
The dye died in milk.

Those 'o's in 'Froot Loops':
Self-demonstrating artic-
Damn syllable count!