Category Archives: Poems

Alternate History

It’s the little things in history

That changed the world we know,

Like how we’d all be drinking taxed tea

If it weren’t for that Washington schmo.

What if Egypt hadn’t come along

And stolen Moses’s guys,

Or if medieval barbarians

Had toilet paper (just two plies).

Would the dark ages have ended

If the Visigoths used their head

And gained a tactical advantage

By bein invisi-goths instead?

And what if all this happened

And then Superman got drunk

And flew around the world so fast

That suddenly history stunk?

How would history be different

If this poet were never born?

You’d be stuck with Robert Frost,

Or else be watching porn.

Thus endeth my ideas,

Written down via Roman letters.

But think of how, if things had changed,

This poem would be betters.

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Justice

He said “Happy Monday!”

So I shot him with a gun-day.

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You Saw It Coming

An Easter Haiku,

‘Cause it’s obligatory.

Jesus. Bunny. Eggs.

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My Mornings

When I wake up, I fill my bath

And my lake of boiling acid.

I brush my teeth and poke my sharks

To stop them from getting placid.

I make my bed and shine my button

(The red one that says “die”)

Then I stroke my pet and eat paté

‘Til the heroes come on by.

On Saturdays I watch the news

And write something for my blog,

Then I go for a weekend drive

And swerve to hit a dog.

On Sundays I like to sleep in

And skip this whole routine.

After all, it’s hard to be

So consistently mean.

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Field of Dreams

Today our team faces the Knights

In a thrilling afternoon match.

The Knights are undefeated

And have never missed a catch.

The sky is blue, the grass is green,

The clouds are fluffy white.

The weather report says “chance of rain”

And I’m praying that it’s right.

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Steal From The Naughty, Give To His Homies

If Santa were a rapper,

He’d also be a pirate.

Here’s the evidence for how I know:

Rappers greet each other

By saying “yo” most often,

So rapper/pirate Santa’d say “yo ho ho!”

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Squeaking By

My financial situation

Is eating this rodent whole.

They told me I should “gopher broke.”

Alas, I’m just a mole.

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Reality TV

Paultry poultry,

Culprit cuddles,

The clasping asps,

And more;

With all these titles

Floating around,

We still get “My 600-pound life.”

What for?

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Cubism

I complained about my cubicle,

Saying it was too small,

And since it was rectangular

Was not a cube at all.

Now I’m living in a box

In back alley, USA.

I guess complaining didn’t help,

But my box is a cube, so yay?

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Superheroic Privilege

Flying to a new address

When I hear a stranger in distress.

Oh wait, I recognize that guy!

Let’s save a different passerby…

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