I’m a talent scout
For your local Mickey-D’s.
I think you may have talent
For stacking bread and meat and cheese,
So if you fail a few more classes
I hope you’ll call me please.
Category Archives: Poems
Find What You Love and Get Paid For It
I used to be the leader
Of a bunch of nasty thugs
Who cut on people’s bodies
And sold a lot of drugs.
But now I’ve finally realized
That those things aren’t cool.
Now I’ll use my skills to prosper
At Harvard Medical School.
Filed under Poems
Don’t Judge Me!
I have a bit of a fetish
For chicks with webbed feet,
So when I heard of a “duck tape”
I went into heat…
Alas, the tape wasn’t naughty,
Nor even related to a duck.
Then again, when stuck between toes
It makes me feel ready to…
(Poet’s note: I removed some fowl language).
Filed under Poems
Star Wars Episode IX: Return of the Common Sense
“Killing is fun,
Don’t get me wrong.
I love being a part
Of this white-armored throng.
I’m just saying
We’ve got a whole galaxy!
Why force-murder each other?
Let’s split it 50-50.”
The last poem of an unnamed Stormtrooper Captain (55-72 ABY)
His lack of faith was disturbing.
Filed under Poems
A Boy Named Goose
My friends all shouted “goose”
As the spear flew towards my head.
I might be alive today
If they shouted “duck” instead.
Filed under Poems
Rethink Your Motto
Don’t come in here!
I have a hunch
That I soon
Must lose my lunch.
I had green eggs
And Ham a la carte.
“I’ll try anything once”
Is good fun, but not smart.
Filed under Poems
The Chihuahua Cometh
Hear ye, neighbors!
The herald of the morning
And a singer through the night
Has arrived this day!
He weighs four pounds
Of pure vocal chords
And hatred for humanity.
Next time think twice
About blocking my driveway.
Filed under Poems
Every House Has A Silver Icing
I live in a really disgusting house.
It’s sticky and melts in the rain
And when wild animals chew on my walls
Baking them again is a pain.
I can’t stand my gumdrop garden
And it draws human children like crack.
At least the kids, while noisy and rude,
Can make for a pretty good snack.
Filed under Poems
Wrong Stool
I asked “How do I get taller?”
They said “stand on a stool.”
Now my shoes smell like crap
And I feel like a fool.
If So, You’re Doomed
If I were born with tentacles
Sticking out of my head
At first I’d think my life was rather sad,
But I could meet a pretty squid
And maybe have a kid
And then it wouldn’t be nearly as bad.
So if you have no limbs
Or an extra toe or two
Don’t worry. You’ll find love for sure!
You’ll find the one, I guarantee
Unless you are like me,
That is: online, honest, and five-foot four.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 