Monthly Archives: September 2015

Apathetic Yoda

Write a haiku?

I’d like to,

But today I won’t.

Instead you

Get this… Poo.

Care about this, I don’t.

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The Little Intestine Who Could

There was too much water,

At least a gallon or two.

Little intestine was struggling

To make some pee for you.

The intestine thought “I think I can.”

As it turned out, he could.

If you didn’t like this poem

Small intestine says “you should.”

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Bacon is like Hell,

As I know all too well.

Both hurt in the end,

And the scars never mend,

But before all that, they’re swell!

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He drew a pair of tentacles

And a rocket on its side

With a pair of spiny barnacles

Beneath a grey-black sky.

Barry shouts “it’s patriotism,”

And Andy says “That’s it!”

The rest of us just sit and stare,

And Laura says “well, shit.”

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Feel-Good Movies

I want to see a movie

Unlike the Wizard of Oz

Where some guy from a magic world

Turns into a lost cause.

He’s trapped in a tornado

And carried to a place

Where the world is all in black and white

And munchkins hate his face.

He travels many miles

Down an unremarkable trail

To a city where a beurocrat

Says his journey’s doomed to fail.

It would be a dismal movie,

That makes you want to drink some Mace.

That said, I’m sick of “Game of Thrones”

And this could take its place.

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I think that caffeine

Is good for your spleen,

And I have evidence to back it up:

How often have you seen

Someone hurt a healthy spleen

While savoring something in a Starbucks cup?

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Based on a True Story

Waiting at the DMV

Is not too bad for me.

Maybe it’s painful for you,

Not being “R362.”

As they serve R529

I continue to feel just fine.

Then they call up R360

And we’re one step closer to helping me!

A few minutes later R361.

I am almost having fun.

And then there’s R363.

Did they really just skip me?

I bring my ticket to the desk

And ask them straight-up, “what the hesk?”

They say to kindly sit and wait.

I’m now R758.

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Research Paper

Wild chickens of the North;

Black and white, they sally forth.

Their wings are much akin to fins.

That much I know of penguins.

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Aragorn’s Vacation

The sun shines down,

Hot as myself.

I lie on a beach

With a dwarf and an elf.

My shining armor

Makes Gondor girls swoon.

It’s been a long, happy day

And it’s only noon.

Somewhere near Mordor

They’re killing the ring

And I’m just here like,

“I should be king.”

Sometimes I think

I should go help them out,

But Gollum’s got that covered,

Without a doubt.

So I sip margaritas

And smile a bit wider.

Someone calls me “sir.”

I say “please, call me Strider.”

But as the days pass

I grow somewhat bored.

When will they be finished

Reforging my sword?

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A rose by other names

Smells the same.

But poems would be lame

If flowers had a different name.

There would not be “flower power”

But instead “flength strength.”

I might pick a dozen gwazzles

Or a bouquet of mength.

I think you get the point,

And I’m running out of time.

This poem wasn’t flengthy

And very easy to rhyme.

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