If you’re the type of fancy guy
Who calls pink things “magenta”
Then I can cook you up a bowl
Of “Fancy-Guy Polenta.”
But if you’re the type of guy
Who shoots and drinks and spits
I’ll fry it up for half the price
And call it “Good Ol’ Grits.”
If you’re the type of fancy guy
Who calls pink things “magenta”
Then I can cook you up a bowl
Of “Fancy-Guy Polenta.”
But if you’re the type of guy
Who shoots and drinks and spits
I’ll fry it up for half the price
And call it “Good Ol’ Grits.”
Filed under Poems
There once was a man named Jared Russ
Who was fond of munching canned asparagus.
He ate it all the time
But for lack of a rhyme
Often said things were Ceteris Parabus.
Filed under Poems
“My wife needs more pillows.”
“That mullet looks great!”
“Soccer’s exciting.”
“The world needs more hate.”
“Pink armpit hair’s hot.”
“I got a job with my arts degree.”
“I wish that I had gotten caught.”
“I really, super don’t have to pee.”
“I really hate inner tubes.”
“That was a great United flight.”
“She’d look better with smaller boobs.”
“The valedictorian’s getting laid tonight!”
Filed under Poems
Sometimes I watch the Stars and Stripes,
The symbol of American rule of law
And wonder who first thought “Hey!
“That would look good as a bra!”
Filed under Poems
Bigger is better in terms of pianos,
4×4’s, salaries, and dicks.
But smaller is better in the eyes of go-getters
When it comes to the waist size of chicks.
——————————————————–
Bigger is better, the man would insist
When it comes to masculine stuff
Because those said men have never had things
That were, in our eyes, big enough.
Filed under Poems
The roses are dead.
The violets are too.
Someone swapped the water
With adhesive glue.
Filed under Poems
Back in the Western USA
In 1800 somethin’
A couple cowboys realized
Their hearts, they were a thumpin’.
The cowboys had been life long friends
And though they both were male
They rode to Brokeback Mountain
And they gave up on the trail.
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!
We used to have some cowboys
To protect our town from raids,
But now we have to check
Our cowboy guardians for AIDS!
They use to be quick to the draw
But now they have more fun
With the sheathing than the drawing
Of their aforementioned gun!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!
One cowboy found his saddle’s
Grown less comfortable with time. He
Found this was the case
Unless their romance they would stymie.
But the cowboys needed horses
Like they found they needed lasses
And they replaced their ponies
With one another’s (whoaaa!)
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!
Yodel
Oodle
Yodel
Adel
Odel
Soooooooo…
Doooooooo…
Myyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
We’ve seen names with apostrophes
And names that lack a vowel.
We have seen surnameless names
Like Retta, Link, and Farrel.
We’ve seen whatever Prince’s name
Had been known as previously.
I just hope I get to be the first
To name a kid with an Emoji.
Filed under Poems
Poems are like people
By which I mean to say
Occasionally you laugh at them
But also wish they’d go away.
Filed under Poems
Just because a wise man said it
Doesn’t make it wise.
A wise man says “No bacon for me,”
But, plot twist! He eventually dies.
Filed under Poems