Monthly Archives: June 2018

Peasant Problems

They told me to lift dumbbells

‘Cause my arms were far too thin.

I couldn’t check if they were right

‘Cause Congress wouldn’t let me in.

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She’s Lying…

Everything’s fine.

I won’t get mad.

I don’t care about your exes.

I’m almost ready.

I’ll call you right back.

I don’t mind you buying that Lexus.

I really don’t care.

I really don’t mind.

I really (insert anything here).

No, I’m not jealous

And if we get married

I’ll never make you watch Shakespeare.

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The Hippies Are Alive And Well

Sometimes I like to sit

And feel the wind between my toes,

To plant some seeds behind my ears

And see if something grows,

To boil a pot of water

Then cool it with my breath.

I call it “life with nature.”

Dad calls it “side-effects of meth.”

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Playing With A Too-Full Deck

The young bet on clubs

And slowly lose their mind.

The grown bet on diamonds

And what they seek, they find.

The old bet on spades

And in time all follow suit.

For those who bet on hearts

Best be rich, or else be cute.

Yet I drew five jokers…

I’m either destined for greatness

Or I bet on too many clubs.

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51% And Growing

What if, with perfect certainty, you knew how to be good. You

Would have no ills or evils. With this great power would you

Live your life accordingly, an angel we’d admire,

Or is flawless, certain perfection a goal to which you’d not aspire?

Now if perfection weren’t certain and ’twas painful to act well

Would you trade your Earthly pleasure for 50/50 odds of Hell?

Would you suffer every moment if it might bring future joy

Or would you say “be happy now” and make pleasure your toy?

The point that I am making is in our uncertain years

Where our good or evil instincts are affected by our fears

That we might be a villain who believes that we are just

Or perhaps a clumsy angel whose good intent is all a bust.

If you’d be truly evil or would be extremely good

Then here’s a course of action that to take I think you should:

To seek a path of certainty. Through thinking you will find

More often the results you seek are those which you will find

And if another does you wrong seek not to cast your blame

But know that if you thought like him you’d probably do the same.

Hero, villain, victim are alike a future you

So why not think and weight the coin that judges all we do?

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A Spartan Limerick

Imagine that after a battle

You found an Athenian child with the cattle…

The adopter would be thanked

But if the kid couldn’t be spanked

The adopters are up a Greek without a paddle.

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Now I’m Going To Get A Bunch Of Calls And Texts From Concerned People Who Think I’m Depressed When, No, I’m Just Not Particularly Inspired And MyPrevious Poems Involved How Much I Hate Zucchini And Soccer So I Figured I’d Just Publish This One. (Also, Around The Time I Wrote “Poems” In This Title I Became Unable To See What I Was Typing Because My Phone’s Screen Is Too Small So Please Forgive Any Tupoes). Also, Is There A Limit To How Long A Title Can Be?

If I weren’t so cynical

I’d probably be equally sad,

Not because I’m cynical

But because the world’s just bad.

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Nurture Your Nature

We build our lives to last

When no life ever will,

Polishing details

That only we can see.

We want to climb the ladder,

Be the king of every hill

While most things in the world

Will exist below the sea.

We bend and bleed and labor,

Flap our wings but seldom fly.

We might overcome our nature

But that is not my wish.

We could be a flying whale

But I have to wonder why

We would be unhappy whales

Instead of very happy fish.

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Flirting In Canada

I was a man

And she was not.

She hadn’t noticed me

But I thought she was hot.

I approached her politely

And told her “I’m Dan.”

She was, in hindsight, not pleased

So I got two years in the can.

I remember when men

Were not seen as a foe,

But not anymore

Thanks to Justin Trudeau.

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This Is Closer To Reality Than I’d Like (And Yes, Niche Does Rhyme With Itch)

Sometimes I wish I were an itch,

An itch that can’t be scratched

So I could bug the ugly thug

To whom you are attached.

Then when you were single

I would steal away your heart

And just like that eternal itch

We’d never be apart.

But eventually you’d hate me

And the scratching I’d inspire

And you’d dump me for some other jerk

Of whom you would soon tire

Then I would swoop back to you,

Your faithful little itch

And maybe this time you won’t dump me?

What do you mean my fetish is niche…

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