Jubilations on the most recent anniversary
Of your extra-uteral emergence into the nursery.
Your visage has an undeniable simian similarity
And your olfactory signature is also resemblant, although cursory.
Jubilations on the most recent anniversary
Of your extra-uteral emergence into the nursery.
Your visage has an undeniable simian similarity
And your olfactory signature is also resemblant, although cursory.
Filed under Poems
I played a game of chess today
With a lass from West L.A.
I pinned her king and said “Checkmate,”
But West L.A demanded “Wait!”
She pointed out that I had doomed
A king whose gender I’d assumed
And what my small mind hadn’t seen
Was that I had trapped her second queen.
Having no method now to win
I concluded she had done me in.
Now the world can only guess:
Why don’t more lesbians play chess?
Filed under Poems
I used to be a beat cop
For the city of LA,
Busting heads and taking names
And shutting crooks away.
I had a code of honor
That would supersede the law…
That was me, the sexy renegade,
The American Eagle’s claw.
But though I stood at six-foot-ten
And had zero body fat,
Had six-pack abs and a .44 mag,
A badge and all of that
I knew my name was whispered
In every darkened alley
And I still could not see why
My parents chose to name me “Sally.”
Filed under Poems
I want to play rock-paper-scissors
Where scissors beats rock, ’cause then
Everyone would always choose scissors
And it would make the game more “zen.”
Filed under Poems
In December I sat on a frozen lake
And fished for rainbow trout.
The next two months I did the same
‘Cause that’s what I’m about.
This Summer I’m vacationing
Somewhere in the Maldives.
I know there’s no ice-fishing there
But I can avoid my 28 wives.
Filed under Poems
There once was a womxn from Berkeley
Who acted rashly and berserkly.
Zhe drove a non-hybrid car
To an all-vegan bar.
These micro-aggressions were carried out jerkily.
Filed under Poems
Once again I find myself
Besot by evening’s chill,
No longer in possession of
The time I had to kill.
My mind fixates upon the task
I’ve thus far left undone:
I swore I’d write a poem a day
And yet have written none.
Thus I lie upon my bed
Writing where I am now,
Stating the truth about my life
As syllables allow.
Now comes the peril of present-tense:
I write that I’m writing,
Now I reread the previous line
To see if it’s exciting.
I also find, where once I wrote
Six syllables then eight,
My meter has forsaken me
By virtue of it’s late.
Thus endeth my desperate foray
To create relevant verse.
To all reading I bid good night!
(Poetry is a curse).
I saw an advertisement
For a poetry group today
Inviting folks to “come and read
“A poem that stabs the heart,
Reveals a truth or sadness,
Or helps you shout hooray.”
I was not well received
By reading “Ode to a Fart.”
Filed under Poems
The road told the rooster
“You look like a hen.”
The rooster killed the road’s family
And it never crossed the chicken again.
Filed under Poems
Ask any man “Would you marry?”
And the man will most-likely say “Sure.”
He’d wear a gold ring for the rest of his days
To announce his commitment to her.
Ask any girl “Would you marry?”
And she’ll smile and say “Yes” with glee.
“And he’d wear a gold ring for the rest of his days
“To announce his commitment to me!”