This is the point in history
Where things aren’t going well,
But you aren’t very worried yet
Because you know a spell
That opens up a menu
Where you reload your latest save
And go back to start on easy mode
Instead of to your grave.
Category Archives: Poems
Researching Self-Control
If I had a potato chip
For every theory that made sense
I’d have a much larger stomach
And not a lot of evidence…
Filed under Poems
Car of Man, Car of Poet
He’s got a triple-axle
Turbo-powered 4×4
With a 12-liter v-20
And a carbon-fiber door.
It goes zero-to-sixty
In 1.72
And has a TV in the hood,
But me… My car is blue!
Filed under Poems
Lucky for Me… I’m a 3!
She was meretricious
And he was five-foot-two
And yet somehow between them
Amorous feelings grew.
He thought she was a goddess
And she thought he was funny.
So go the lives of 4’s and 5’s
When they have boobs or money.
Filed under Poems
The Case Against Hell
Were there an inventor,
Perhaps of a car,
And it found its vehicle flawed
I’d think that the fault
Was not with the car
But with it’s creator, Car God.
And if Car God said,
“You dumb stupid lemon,
“Made flawed because I wasn’t clever,
“Instead of repairing,
“Refining, retrying,
I think I’ll just burn you forever…”
If that were the case,
I’d want a new God
For fear that I might somehow fail.
But our God is better:
Our God is forgiving
For he made, but has not burned, kale.
Filed under Poems
But Hockey? There’s A Great Sport!
Soccer’s like “The Notebook:”
I’ve never watched for more than a minute,
I consider it nap-time
And don’t like anyone in it.
Soccer and I
Are also much alike
In that no one ever scores
And the entertainment it creates has unsatisfying conclusions.
Filed under Poems
Insurance Be Like…
I called Permanente Kaiser
‘Cause I had pain in my incisor.
What they said seemed rather ruthless:
“Pay up or you’ll soon be toothless.”
If Only His Parents Named Him Neil…
Greg is 17-foot-3,
Runs faster than the eye can see,
And more impressive than Greg’s size is
How Greg’s won four Nobel Prizes.
Greg is just 18 years old.
All Greg touches turns to gold.
Greg’s backstory’s very tragical
Which makes Greg seem even more magical.
Greg declared the other day
Greg wants to play in the NBA.
The coaches laughed ’til they soiled their pants…
Greg once said, “Cops are fine,” so Greg never stood a chance.
Filed under Poems
Why Teachers Don’t Get Paid Enough
I didn’t like to talk
So I said, “I hate speech.”
Mr. King was sad
Because it’s his job to teach.
He said, “That is incorrect.
“You should say, ‘I use hate speech.'”
I quoted him out of context
And now he’s homeless on the beach.
Filed under Poems
Hospital Memos
Vegetable soup will
No longer be served in the
Quadriplegic’s ward.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 