Category Archives: Poems

Post First-Date Form Letter V 1.0

In fair Verona, long ago

Lived fair Juliet and her Romeo,

Two kids who, about each other, raved

And whom better communication skills could have saved.

For in a land where alchemists

Can make you look dead if your parents are pissed

Informing your partner of your choice to partake

In such a substance is a wise choice to make,

But neh! Knowing better, the 15 year old

Pair of lovers thought the others needn’t be told.

And thus was a theatrical masterpiece born

To suffice in an era with no access to porn.

This is why I didn’t call;

I just want our love to conquer all.

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Who Needs Memory Anyway?

“Clumps of dainty silver bones

Mixed amidst the silent stones

Are bathed not in blood or tears

But in the light of yesteryears.”

I don’t know the meaning of that verse,

If it be blessing or a curse,

But it’s tattooed on my forehead

Which is why I no longer drink before bed.

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Dream Job: Real Housewife Of Poetry

The time for meta poetry

Has come again it seems.

This blog, over the years,

Has become a thing of dreams.

That’s not to say it’s excellent

(Or even good, per se),

But that if life were like this blog

I’d be happy every day.

If consistency of talent

Were optional for work…

If people liked me purely

For my ability to be a jerk…

If things without a reason

At least would have a rhyme…

Yes, if life were like this blog

We would have a groovy time.

Amidst the inevitable collapsing

Of society in such a world

We would laugh and we would smile

As the universe unfurled.

Mediocrity would rule supreme

Were we to go that far,

And thus I’m moving to LA

To be a reality TV star.

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Never Thought I’d Miss “Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat?” But Alas…

“If I were a pickled spleen

Kept in a jar for 30 years

Charged with electrical current

In a chamber full of your darkest fears,

Then released from the jar on a Sunday

And carried overseas by some birds

To attend celebrations in Istanbul

Would you still kiss me afterwards?”

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Nice Weather For Post-Commute Shenanigans 

The air was warm and friendly,

The sun a gentle golden light,

And the dirt was easily shoveled

Upon the corpse of the guy who passed me on the right.

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New Discoveries In Fad Gastronomy

I’m on a new diet

Where I stand outside

As the rain pours upon me

And softens my hide,

Where the drumbeat of storms

And the wind’s icy whip

Shall grab fat from my bones

And from my body strip.

This diet’s approved

By the Gods of the gale,

Guaranteed by the ancients

To make man out of whale.

While such primeval cures

Do at first seem too frightening

I do endorse this diet

Of Thunder and Lightening.

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Dearest Saturday

I worked all week,

I sweated and toiled,

I broke my back,

My plans were foiled,

My heart was shattered,

My brain turned to goo

So that, Dearest Saturday,

I could make it to you.

I slaved and I slobbered.

My displeasures grew

As I sat through lectures

I already knew,

I held off angry clients,

Protected my pen

So that we, Dearest Saturday,

Could be one once again.

Metaphorical dragons

Have fallen before me,

Slain so I could assure

That you would not deplore me,

And although I am thankful

To not be deplored

Why is it, Dearest Saturday,

That I’m this freakin’ bored?

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