Two inches of snow
Means schools are closed tomorrow.
Colorado laughs.
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Socialism: Free Trial Edition
If you’re tired of Trump
Then make the jump
To sunny Venezuela!
There you can shirk
And do no work
And the socialist state will pay ya!
You’ll save so much money
It isn’t funny
‘Cause there’s nothing for sale to buy
So if you bite your thumb
‘Cause there’s no food to bum
You can tell South America “hi.”
Filed under Poems
AI Writes A Country Song
Today I’m bored and kinda tired,
For sure not feeling too inspired,
So a thought emerged within my head:
Let robots do my job instead!
So I was nit at all upset
When a robot said “I can write a rhyming couplet.”
I said “write me a country song,”
And here’s the poem that came along:
——————————————————–
See the hightailing of the cowboy,
I think he’s angry at the ahoy.
He finds it hard to see the horse,
Overshadowed by the rainy field of force.
Who is that yodeling near the saddle?
I think she’d like to eat the cattle.
She is but a rural addition,
Admired as she sits upon a position.
Her leather car is just a beer,
It needs no gas, it runs on steer.
She’s not alone she brings a dog,
a pet dog, and lots of parts catalogue.
The dog likes to chase a truck,
Especially one that’s in the dabbling duck.
The cowboy shudders at the country gun
He want to leave but she wants the bun.
——————————————————–
The poem’s bad, and I think it’s neat
That I am not yet obsolete.
Sure, technology is fun
But robots 0, human 1.
Filed under Poems
Dear Washington…
Those who take the roles
Of conducting political polls
Should receive an MD
In proctology
For their research in helping assholes.
Filed under Poems
The Last Jedi’s Valentine
A dozen roses can show your love
If flowers are what your love adores
But if you send a Rose Tico
You might accidentally kill Star Wars.
Filed under Poems
Guest Poem By Michael Bay
There once was a musclebound maverick
Who lived on a houseboat back east
Whose hobby was arm-wrestling pythons
And whose fingers’ tattoos spelled out “B.E.A.S.T.”
A menace that threatened America
Made the president call him to arms.
Then there was a gratuitous explosion
And a lot of red flashing alarms.
So Maverick emerged from retirement,
Shook hands with some buddies from ‘Nam
Then one more gratuitous explosion
This time from a nuclear bomb.
A scantily clad 20-something
Kissed Maverick and gave him a knife
After which he confronted the menace,
There was a gratuitous explosion…
Thus endeth the big bad guy’s life.
Somewhere in there’s a Bugatti
And a shirtless training montage.
You might think this doesn’t make sense,
Thus explosions and décolletage.
Filed under Poems
How To Write A Superbowl Ad
You start out with a robot
That’s been made with CGI
Who says one beer is best
With no compelling reason why.
Next you strip the advertisement
Of anything resembling humor
So you don’t provoke the many
With an “I’m Offended” tumor.
Then say “We love social justice
“So you should buy our calamari”
With the sincerity of a five-year-old
When they’re forced to say “I’m sorry.”
The result’s an advertisement
To appeal to a mob
That hates all corporations
But still needs them for their job.
I hope next year’s Sportsball expo
Doesn’t try to be so “woke”
And the 2020 vegans
Are prepared to take a joke.
Filed under Poems
