Mob Haiku: Willing

Bobby: only got
a pittance. Joe and Donny
were the splitting heirs.

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Mob Haiku: A Salted


The Boss loathed his veg.

He’d push it ’round on his plate:

disturbing the peas.

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Mob Haiku: Face It

Angie got confused.

Clorox for Botox:  fine lines

still all whited out.

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Mob Haiku: Frauda

Vito sold faux goods:

Quitton, Dyeore, Lessboutin;

Bill Brass and ZegNo.

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Mob Haiku: Gold Fish

Ray wanted to be

a loan shark.  But he was just

a bottom feeder.

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Mob Haiku: Wait Watcher

Aldo loved guns and

meatballs, pasta: he said to

Jenny Craig “Fork off.”

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Mob Haiku: Handsome Prints

Giulio’s hands left

their mark, clear as glass.  Now he’s

king of the cell block.

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Mob Haiku: Bookkeeping

Like Canadian

geese: Bobby’s collection cash

flew South last winter.

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Mob Haiku: Last Words

Tony, out of fa-

vor, got whacked.  His epitaph:

Fragile -This Side Up.

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Mob Haiku: Belles Lettres

Vinnie took sit down

notes for  the Boss. You see, he

was a Goodspella.

(Photo –

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