Monthly Archives: March 2017

Why Not Celebrate The Already Well-Loved?

April is national poetry month.

February was the month of black history.

How they pick what’s special for each given month

Is, to me, a bit of a mystery.

If I were in charge of month-topic picking

I’d pick something everyone loves

Like the national month of ice-cream and sex…

Either that or elbow-length gloves.

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My Vegan Arsenal Begins

I went to the dollar store

To buy a concealable weapon.

Something with menace

From a gangster from Venice,

But a gun or knife I didn’t want to be schleppin’.

So discount Dominic

Sold me a satisfactory piece:

It weighs but an ounce

And helps when I pounce.

Ever seen some grass knuckles like these?

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I saw an ad for a psychiatrist.

His reviews said “he’s magnificent.”

I needed a psychiatrist

And so to his place I went.

I told him how my father

Left my mother when I was young,

How I suffered from a crippling fear

Of swallowing my tongue,

Of how I had anxiety,

Social and miscellaneous,

And until now had found talking

About my feelings to be extraneous.

The magnificent psychiatrist 

Listened closely to my fear,

Then he said “I’ve found the problem…

“It’s this coin behind your ear.”

And as he drew a quarter

From where my lobe and auricle met

His other hand gave me a bill

And the shrink said “you’re all set.”

I left his office happier…

That I can say for sure.

I can also say with certainty

I won’t be using Yelp no more.

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Why I’m Waiting To Write That Essay

Mighty is the sword

And mighty is the pen:

If both of these are true

It’s safe to conclude then

The mightiest tool of all

Is the one and only Swordpen.

It writes with the blood

Of those it slays.

It’s Swordpenned many novels

And poems and plays.

It’s the only writing implement

With a crossguard I know.

It’s good with the ladies.

It’s middle name is “Bro.”

I wish I had a Swordpen.

It would be a cool thing to own.

Alas, the only swordpen

Is stuck in a Pencilstone.

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The Power Plant

They asked me “where’s the power plant?”

I pointed towards the woods

And they set out to find it

And claim its electric goods.

They asked me “where’s the power plant?”

And went off to the forest.

Now I picture them and laugh

‘Cause me they must abhorest.

They asked me “where’s the power plant?”

I pointed to the oaks,

The tow’ring cedar, stalwart maple,

Not intending it as a hoax.

They asked me “where’s the power plant?”

I pictured a mighty tree

Because a hundred feet of hardwood

Is a powerful plant to me.

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What’s Ablution Anyway?

So I had writer’s block again.

To Google I was bound.

I searched for poetry topics

And here is what I found:

“Abandoned, ablution, acrostic, adultery, affliction, Africa, aggravation, aggression.”

I don’t have a meaningful poem today

But that isn’t terribly bad.

I could have written about aggressive adulterous ablution

But would you be happier if I had?

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If I Order A Bacon Cheeseburger In Canada What Will I Get?

Is bacon in Canada

Canadian bacon?

Is a pig in Guinea

A guinea pig?

Is this issue important

Like I seem to be makin’

Or is it an issue

Not nearly so big?

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