Eating Salad Drunk:
Haikus for the Burnout Age by Comedy Greats
by Gabe Henry, illustrated by Emily Flake
DETAILS: Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin Publication Date: February 22, 2022 Format: Hardcover Length: 207 pg. Read Date: October 12-15, 2026

Who has time for more
Than seventeen syllables
These days anyway?
—Gabe Henry
What’s Eating Salad Drunk?
It is, as the subtitle tells us, a collection of haiku for and about our contemporary age, written by comedians/comics/comic writers. They’re collected under the headings of Screen Time, Food, Friends & Family, Modern Romance, The Struggle is Real, Nature Calls, Entertainment, Words of Wisdom, and Self Love & Loathing.
Let me quickly state that the editor does note that the proper plural form doesn’t have an “s”, that was a stylistic choice. It’s also noted that there are several (probably the majority) of these poems that don’t fit other rules about haiku, again, it’s a stylistic choice—and for people who are looking for technicalities like that (and, truly, I wouldn’t blame them) this is not a book they’d enjoy. For people looking for some clever people trying to have fun in a haiku-ish way within many of the limits of the form, on the other hand…
The Soul of Wit
If Shakespeare was right, this book celebrates brevity. In his Introduction, Henry notes
there’s something addictive about writing within constraint. It brings out a creative ingenuity in the artist—a personal challenge to see how much can be done in a limited space.
The authors, many of which you’ll know the names of (and several you’ll start to wish you knew), embraced this challenge and came up with some very clever ways to fulfill it.
I’m not sure if this example from Aubrey Plaza is one of those (but it made me grin nonetheless):
The full moon rises.
A city sleeps peacefully.
Rats rats rats rats rats.
But you get the idea, right?
Matt Gourley, on the other hand, nails it:
Let’s talk TV shows.
Of all the big finales
Sopranos was the—
So, what did I think about Eating Salad Drunk?
I’m going to assume the experience that I (and my children) had is fairly universal: you’re somewhere between 2nd and 5th grade and you bring home from the bookstore/library a joke book (or a stack), and you tear through them—finding a new favorite every page or two. You also annoy the $*#($! out of whatever adult happens to be around you by reading several of them aloud, waiting expectantly for their howls of laughter to echo your own.
That’s what this was like for me. Although I didn’t share my favorites with anyone around me—it’s taken me decades, but I have learned some restraint. (also, my wife wasn’t around, and she’s really the only one I badger like that) Just page after page after page if grins and chuckles.
Sure, a few fell flat—but I could still see and appreciate the joke and construction, even if it didn’t really make me think “funny” or “amusing.” There also were a couple of heartfelt ones scattered throughout.
I limited myself to one chapter/topic at a time—taking hours/days between them. I think my appreciation would have diminished had I read the book in one sitting—although I was tempted to.
The decorative illustrations throughout were nice little touches, i really like Emily Flake’s style, I think I’m going to be tracking down some more of her work soon.
I heartily recommend this to you, readers. And if Henry is out there reading this—I’m more than up for another collection!
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