For A Very Tolerant Mother On This Auspicious Day

My mommy was a mother

Since before I was a brother

To my sister, and she kissed her

And tucked her into bed.

Then my mommy had another

(That was me), and then no other;

She was done, and though now I’m fun

Back then we cried ‘til fed.

And feed us well my mother did,

Both me and that darn other kid,

And I’ve attested she never rested

‘Til we kids were satisfied.

Then we got bigger and less cute;

One could walk and one could scoot,

After baby-proofing and pillow floofing

She probably wanted to hide.

Alas, we found her hiding places

And made her wipe our snotty faces.

She loved us still, despite the thrill

Having long since departed.

And then we started going to school,

Which meant less time mopping our drool.

With phlegmless floors she still did chores

As we laughed and said “I farted.”

And even when my sister was bad

(I never was, just ask our dad)

With grace and calm she’d slap her palm

Anywhere but on our faces.

When we got big and pubescent

She gave us the finest present

Like love and stuff, always enough

Yet gave us private spaces.

And oh the years of meals she cooked,

Though overworked and overlooked!

Oh the the years and sweat and tears

Endured by her for us! She

Will be remembered evermore,

For all of this, but even more:

She inspired my art. She’s old, but not a fart.

I end this poem thusly.

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Get It? Like Fairy… Where Are You Going?

I know a guy who never buys anything

Unless he can find it on sale.

I know another who loves unicorns;

They’re both into fair retails.

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My Girl Called This “So Sweet” … Should I Be Worried?

I love you
With all my heart,
Like hobos love
A shopping cart,
Like children laugh
When people fart,
When we are near
Or far apart.

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But They Still Need Taxes?

“What comes up must come down”

My teacher told me with a frown,

But here’s a thing that I don’t get:

Why isn’t that true for government debt?

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Remember When I Was A Bachelor And Wrote Funny, Cynical Stuff? Yeah… About That…

I took a nap and pet a cat

And read a book and brushed a horse

And now I write a poem about that

That’s precisely eight lines long, of course.

Some days you will stress and struggle;

Some days you’ll complain and whine.

Today I smiled and chose to snuggle

A ginger angel, mine all mine.

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Type A Vs. Type Hey!

Some people spend their lives

Trying hard to do things right,

Making perfectly circular pizzas

And working through the night.

Other people live their lives

By doing what is fun

Though the pizza ends up looking

Like art the family dog has done.

Perfectionists unite, I say

And make the rocket ships

While the do-it-my-way folks

Make new flavors for the chips.

The harmony is perfect

Though perfectionists will glare

Because the have-some-funners

Smile back without a care.

But if the pizza’s spherical

Instead of round and flat

Take a bite: It tastes all right

And you’re the first to make it that!

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Only Washingtonians Will Appreciate The Absurdity

Today it rained in the morning,

From dawn ‘til the sunset was yella’

And I saw the craziest out-of-town guy

Who for some reason had an umbrella!

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Why Teaching Young Children How To Clean Their Noses Contributes To The Global Crime Epidemic

My nose was all sniffly;

‘Twas spring in the air.

Faster than you say “piffly”

My Kleenex weren’t there.

I went to the store

To pick up some tissue

But they had no more

And THAT was an issue.

So I grabbed my gun

And went off a raidin’

Until my nose’s run

Could be finished abatin’.

I knocked on a door

And they opened it. Fools!

I shrieked “Get on the floor!”

And I searched through their tools…

Screwdrivers, flashlight,

And nails to pound

But try as I might

There were no Kleenex found.

The cops were approaching

I could hear their siren

And I was encroaching

And expect they’d be firin’

So I took the out…

The only one I had:

I scrunched up my snout

And sniffed like my dad.

That day as the bullets

Riddled my body

I learned snot down the gullet

Is what cops think is naughty.

This family-friendly poem was inspired by my beautiful girlfriend and her nose. Blame her, not me.

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You Kinda Have To Read This Aloud…

Some art is low, and some is high;

You can judge which this one is:.

There was a smart guy

And this story is his:

He was a smart fellow

And he felt smart

But that isn’t yet the funny part…

See two smart fellows,

They felt smart

And that is just the very start.

Repeat with three, then four smart fellows

‘Til your enunciation mellows

And then… perhaps we’ll see, who knows…

A reason smart fellows can crinkle their nose.

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True Story, And Also Why I Shouldn’tDrive At Night

Today I was responsible

And went to bed on time,

Forgetting in the interrim

To share my daily rhyme.

Now I’m warm and comfy

And adrenaline is surging

Just like when I take a nap

And the guy in the other lane is merging…

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