Alibi V.14 No.36 • Sept 8-14, 2005 

Feature

Best Haiku About Why You Hate Your Job

I suppose it's to be expected that the only cheerful haiku we received in this category came from unemployed poets. Working can suck. No doubt about it. Hell, even I know that, and I work at the Alibi, which is a crazy, fun-park, merry-go-round of unadulterated orgiastic bliss compared to most jobs out there. (I once got a foot rub and wrote an article about it. You call that work? Please.) John L. Orman's grotesque haiku wins hands down (yeah, pun intended). He gets a $40 certificate to the District and two passes to the Guild Cinema.

Winner
Crank up wood chipper—
Full day of hacking up bark.
Blood! Look ma, no hands!
—John L. Orman

Honorable Mention
Telephones scream like
Wailing children with flashing
fluorescent light bones
—Amanda Rich

Smells bad I'm greasy
My boss is a fat weenie
I hate Schnitzelhut
—Diego Murray

When you work down in
the bowels of the brown earth—
dark, deep shit happens.
—John L. Orman

For me to hate my
Job would require me to seek
Gainful employment.
—MF Ward