Sometimes I take a bath
To ease the stress of taxation.
I fill the tub with herbs
Such as thyme for relaxation.
When arguing online you do
Your foe may fail to convince you,
May reject logic, spew rhetoric,
And end up looking pathetic,
May cite false studies, make up a fact,
Surrender any façade of tact,
May display no virtue and every sin,
But alas, my friend, you still won’t win.
Like an inexpensive cut of meat
Stewed for many a lukewarm hour
You’re welcome when sold on my street
But far less welcome in my shower.
Don’t want to marry just some girl.
I’m looking for a wholesome girl.
A girl whose lack of cleavage
Warms my big platonic heart.
A girl who thinks that working’s
Not synonymous with twerking.
A girl who skips the bar
Because she wants to look at art.
I want to find a happy lass
Who doesn’t want to shake her ass,
Who goes to church on Sundays
And buys ice cream from a truck,
Who’s pure and chaste and sweet
And, instead of “lit,” says “neat.”
But I also want Beyonce,
So I’m feeling kinda stuck…
I’m feeling kinda down
Like a king without a crown.
I’m cowardly, as yellow as they come.
I’ve read like half a million books
By a bunch of chefs and cooks
But about sustainability I’m still dumb.
I thought maybe I’d fit in
If I changed my skin
But this spray-tan makes me look like that guy on the news.
You put it all together
In the rain or sunny weather…
I’ve got the well-read, not-green, yellow, orangey-white guy blues.