Nerd Haiku

by Robb Pearlman

  yet my heart grows cold.

  I sit on sidelines,

  but unlike the quarterback

  I rock at Madden.

  I’m not myopic,

  and I play football . . . somewhere

  in the Multiverse.

  You prefer games of

  strength and agility. I

  prefer Game of Thrones.

  I’m well prepared for

  a zombie apocalypse.

  Are you, pretty boy?

  Tell Ryan Seacrest

  January 1st now starts

  The New 52.

  1, 2, tap-tap-tap.

  I’m obsessive compulsive.

  1, 2, tap-tap-tap.

  5 7 5 hard.

  Structure too strict for art form.

  Hulk no like haiku.

  Teach the children well:

  4, 5, 6, 1, 2, 3 is

  the way to watch them.

  Star Trek movie rule:

  The reboot notwithstanding,

  evens are better.

  Your fingers are too

  fat for small touch screens. Meek shall

  inherit the earth.

  Feel bad for Pluto.

  His master’s a mouse, and now

  he’s not a planet.

  2001 was

  more Kubrick’s The Shining than

  a space odyssey.

  Speech Therapist! To

  Dagobah must you come. Bad

  syntax do I have.

  Red Dead Redemption

  and two piece and a biscuit.

  Big Saturday night.

  “Captain’s Log, stardate . . . ”

  totally sounds better than

  “Dear Diary,” right?

  Must keep my nerd cred.

  I’ve never played D&D.

  Don’t say anything.

  Blue, round, and fast, you’re

  a credit to your species,

  Sonic the Hedgehog.

  Allergic to hay,

  but Farmville lets me claim that

  I am outdoorsy.

  My fear of Mott’s stems,

  over the rainbow, from those

  apple trees in Oz.

  It’s lonely, but it’s

  better to be feared than loved.

  My World of Warcraft.

  Game Stop offered me

  a job because I know more

  than the current staff.

  Workspace was perfect

  until you messed it all up,

  you damn dirty ape.

  Desktop ruled by a

  fully articulated

  Cobra Commander.

  Professional with

  an obscure quote at the end.

  My email footer.

  Matthew Broderick,

  global thermonuclear

  war. Career path set.

  00110101

  00110111

  (Binary Haiku)

  You need IT help?

  OK, one question for you:

  Did you turn it on?

  No login needed,

  so what I really mean is

  You. Shall. Not. Password!

  Skynet stock will climb

  before plummeting along

  with humanity.

  Toasters were harmless.

  Battlestar Galactica

  changed all that for me.

  It’s the new iPhone,

  not the Droid, I’m looking for

  in this year’s stocking.

  Learned how to drive a

  stick and customize just to

  steer Optimus Prime.

  Starship Enterprise,

  the Millennium Falcon.

  I have . . . a Honda.

  DMV won’t put

  NCC-1701

  on my license plates.

  A hybrid car, hmm?

  Does it come loaded with a

  flux capacitor?

  The Go-Bots are the

  Hydrox to the Transformers’

  Oreo cookies.

  Harley Davidson

  could get nerds on a hog with

  a Tron Light Cycle.

  Barbara Gordon and

  Professor Xavier

  get great parking spots.

  Sure, he can fix a

  flat, but can he speak Elvish?

  I didn’t think so.

  Hippocratic Oath,

  yet Kaylee’s feelings were hurt.

  Doctor Simon Tam.

  Dammit, Jim! I’m a

  doctor. My prime directive?

  Paying off med school.

  Who needs a degree?

  All you need are snacks and a

  Mystery Machine.

  Your plan went awry.

  You forgot to account for

  us meddling kids. Zoinks!

  Saturday mornings

  I wake up early to play

  with my Super Friends.

  I can watch Tweety

  again and again. But the

  Raven? Nevermore.

  Spidey, Lucius, and

  The Electric Company

  taught me how to spell.

  Searching for a word

  that will bring you to your knees.

  Scrabble tournament.

  Forgot vacuum has

  two us. Space and spelling bee

  judges abhor me.

  In retrospect, six

  was just a little young to

  see The Exorcist.

  The kids may not care,

  but you and I both know that

  Han shot Greedo first.

  Hours in line, but

  heatstroke will not keep me from

  Star Tours at Disney.

  You want to sound like

  a droid or alien? Use

  a British accent.

  Taking the Great Dane

  to the Ren Fair. It’s OK,

  the saddle fits him.

  Maybe my cat’s name

  is Schrödinger. Or is it?

  We will never know.

  Highly allergic,

  I named my pet fish Krypto.

  It’s just not the same.

  I am the only

  one here wearing a red shirt.

  This will not end well.

  That didn’t work out.

  Things got really out of hand.

  I need a Time Lord.

  I wear a bow tie

  because you think it is cool,

  Eleventh Doctor.

  Tuxedo T-shirt

  and new Chuck Taylors for the

  black-tie reception.

  Holds my iPhone and

  Blackberry. Real leather, too.

  Utility belt.

  Question: Why do I

  knit Cthulhu hats? Answer:

  Because I Lovecrafts.

  Blue blazer over

  Super Grover T-shirt is


  business casual.

  Juicy Juice and some

  Smurfberry Crunch are just part

  of a good breakfast.

  Better than coffee,

  bigger jolt than Red Bull: the

  power of Grayskull!

  Spilled soup all over,

  but this fur is forgiving.

  Dressed like a Wookie.

  I spent every dime

  for this Cosplay masquerade.

  Put on the damn cape.

  My costume cost more

  than I spent on food last year.

  Take my picture. Please.

  I feel tall and thin

  and socially adjusted.

  I like ComicCon.

  ComicCon’s the place

  where I can achieve my dream:

  Do Wonder Woman.

  I’m bald, so costume

  choices are limited to

  Picard or Luthor.

  Uploads take too long,

  and there’s a line for nachos.

  Too many nerds here.

  Thank you, E.T., but

  no Reese’s Pieces for me.

  Peanut allergy.

  Have a stomachache.

  Might be gas, but just in case:

  Get Newt to safety.

  Telemarketers?

  I would much rather get the

  Call of Cthulhu.

  Hey, Rupe? Perry White

  and J. Jonah Jameson

  would never hack phones.

  Maester, not master.

  Lannister, not banister.

  Damn autocorrect.

  Can’t sleep, wondering:

  Will werewolves or mermaids be

  the next vampires?

  The only teams I

  wasn’t picked last for were Teams

  Edward and Jacob.

  Wolverine kicks ass.

  Adamantium and ’tude?

  I’d go gay for him.

  The hottest part of

  Scott Pilgrim vs. the World?

  Not all boy exes.

  Frodo and Samwise,

  Archie and Jughead, too. Guys,

  it’s time to come out.

  Keep your Robin Hood.

  I can do you one better:

  the man they call Jayne.

  With great power comes

  great responsibility?

  Way too much pressure.

  Dear Housekeeping: Please

  vacuum under the bed, too.

  I may have Tribbles.

  I never go down

  to the basement for laundry.

  The C.H.U.Ds will get me.

  OK, I get that

  “Knowing is half the battle.”

  What’s the other half?

  We’re the 99!

  Occupy Arrakis! Screw

  CHOAM Corporation!

  I refuse to eat

  50-year-old Soylent Green.

  Too many hormones.

  LARPing sounds stranger

  than live-action role-playing,

  but it saves me time.

  Martin needs more time?

  He had better hurry up.

  Winter is coming.

  Early adopter,

  I’m now suffering from bad

  newer gen envy.

  When I go shopping,

  I wait for back-to-school sales

  on Diagon Alley.

  Out of the way, kid.

  This toy’s marketed to the

  adult collector.

  The cutest little

  Sith Lord from here to Nabu.

  Lego Darth Vader.

  Santa, take me to

  the Island of Misfit Toys.

  It’s where I belong.

  So we’re just supposed

  to forget the Smoke Monster?

  I still don’t get it.

  Too long to explain.

  Netflix all of the seasons,

  and then we can talk.

  Things don’t always make

  sense, like poverty, crime, or

  invisible jets.

  I’d like to thank the

  below, but not in haiku.

  This nerd’s exhausted.

  Ethan Collings, Jessica Fuller, David Harmon, Gene Hult, Jono Jarrett, James Jayo, Linda Kaplan, Nellie Kurtzman, Linda Pricci, Mary Robinson, David Rosen, Mitchell Waters, Leah Whisler, and all of the writers, artists, creators, Jedi, Federation Officers, Time Lords, Hobbits, Kryptonians, and Asgardians who give us something to live for.