easy like sunday morning

Shh! Be very quiet, friends. It's me, The Haiku Master, and I'm hunting panhandlers!

As reported earlier, the "Helping Hands Halfway House" opened next door to Castle Haiku a couple days ago, and the neighborhood's looked like a low-rent George Romero movie ever since. Throngs of shiftless hobos wander the streets at all hours -- begging spare change, giving unsolicited windshield washings, stinking to high heaven, etc. -- and frankly, I've had enough.

Unfortunately, the timid legalities of this thin, cruel world bar the Sultan of Syllables from any direct action unless first being acted upon. That said, my thirst for vengeance has been somewhat sated by the brazen handful who have foolishly trespassed onto my stately estate -- including this joker, who I caught sifting through my garbage not twenty minutes earlier!

This Guy Thought The Haiku Master's Trash Was His Treasure; He Was Wrong

The scoundrel was oozing false apologies when I found him in the care of my newly acquired pack of vicious attack dobermans, but he'll learn the true meaning of remorse after an hour or so in Castle Haiku's interrogation chamber. Or my name's not The Haiku Master!

Best,