It’s cool you cut your own hair,
That you’re into taxidermy,
But maybe do those both outside…
Could you do that for me?
And I know you love your tuba.
It is an amazing instrument,
But playing it at 3:00 AM
Makes me want to raise your rent.
I don’t mind extended family.
In fact, it’s great you are so close,
But eloping with your cousin
In my basement’s kinda gross.
I know I said no pets allowed,
And to that I will hold true,
But unless you leave my presence
I will sic the dogs on you.
My cat ate my fish,
Then my dog ate my cat,
Then my puma ate my dog
So I bought a pet gnat.
Frodo was a wizard
In a blue police box.
He keeps watch over Gotham
And wears “Game of Thrones” socks.
His nemesis was Gary Oak.
He aimed to misbehave.
If you understand this poem
Give a fellow fan a wave.
It’s a long weekend:
Yee hah and woo hoo!
You didn’t want a long poem,
Did you?
‘Twas a full moon
And the night-things were howling.
I was iff on my own
‘Cause my girlfriend was scowling.
She’s usually laid back,
Accepting, and kind
But once every month
She goes out if her mind.
She nags and she whimpers.
She speaks only commands.
Her heart freezes over
And she speaks with her hands.
I’ve put the time on my calendar;
I am no fool.
When the werewife awakens
It’s time to leave and play pool.
Filed under Poems
Mu magazine subscription
Six years ago did end,
And thus I am assured
I’ll never miss an issue again.
Filed under Poems
When a dog is very, very bad…
Beyond the “cone of shame,”
…They travel to an island
Where everything smells the same.
Squirrels and deer and rabbits
Run freely on the grasses
While dogs are put in kennels
And can’t sniff each others’ asses.
Every night they take a bath
And get their toenails groomed.
Some dogs end up someone’s bitch.
Some dogs end up perfumed.
They serve a 12-month sentence
That feels like seven years.
Some dogs come in, well… intact,
But they come out as steers.
So don’t be a bad doggie
All covered in piercings and tats,
‘Cause what I forgot to mention is
The place is run by cats!
Filed under Poems
Furtive glances;
Still no wi-fi.
Previous posts say
“1d, 2d, 3d, 3d, 5d…”
I hope four days ago
My scheduled poem posted.
Then I wonder:
Am I the only one who cares?
Then my little voice answers:
“Yes.”
Thanks little voice.
Filed under Poems
Bouquet of flowers
Delivered to me.
No name on the card,
And no giver I see.
I’m but an inpatient
At the amnesiac’s ward.
Sending stuff to myself
Is it’s own reward.
The Daily Travesty 