My wife stole 5,280 feet
On our honeymoon cruise down the Nile.
But that’s really ok,
‘Cause you know what they say:
Give her an inch and she’ll take a mile.
Why Philosophers Don’t Flirt (Cogito Ergo Sumthin’)
I saw Descartes sitting at the bar.
I asked “Can I buy you a beer?”
Descartes replied “I think not,”
Then I watched him disappear.
Filed under Poems
We’re All In The Mood For A Melody (And You Know The Rest)
“I’ve got a song for you Billy,”
The executive told Mr. Joel.
“It’s a song for the sad, lonely everyman
“And the pianist has a prominent role.”
“Sounds pretty fly,” Mr. Joel said,
“And I have but one simple request:
“I think we’ll have one short piano bit
“And let harmonica guy do the rest.”
Filed under Poems
How To Double The Size Of Your Congregation With OnePoem
The first layer of Hell is full
Of normal people. It is musty.
In the second layer are gluttons,
The slothful and the lusty.
The third layer’s for murderers,
And it smells like rotting poop.
Everyone else goes to the deepest layer
Where they play Taylor Swift on an infinite loop.
Filed under Poems
How To Choose A Favorite Sports Team
If their best player’s white
You’re not doing it right.
Filed under Poems
Queen
I’d rather have money than AIDS.
I’d rather have a dollar than a cent.
I prefer one thing to another
But I got both, so that’s the way things went!
Filed under Poems
Sailing Is Patriarchy
I was on a sailboat
With a democrat.
The water got bumpy;
She went overboard like that!
I threw her a rope to grab
And noticed she was frowning,
Probably offended
That I attacked her drowning.
Filed under Poems
Life, By The Numbers
Number one is what ambitious people want to be.
Number two is what you do when you don’t have to pee.
Number three’s a dream for men (if you know what I mean)
And four-point-oh’s the GPA of those who know the dean.
Five star restaurants are nice; Motel 6 is not.
If your girl’s a seven or an eight she’s pretty hot.
Nine’s the biggest number with one digit, that is true.
And ten means that non-Nabokovs think she’s too young to do.
I could do eleven, even twelve and then thirteen
But already the gimmick of the poem’s growing lean
So I will end it with a number that is really fine:
Seventy! (The number that comes after sixty-nine).
Filed under Poems
Cleatus Joins Facebook
I tried usin’ logic
On a lib’ral feller.
It was like throwin’ a flashbang
At Ms. Helen Keller.
Filed under Poems
It’s Not About What You Say
At The Women’s March
When a man marches with a sign
That says “I love women”
He’s praised as an ally
To the feminist cause.
At The Straight Pride Parade
When a man marches with a sign
That says “I love women”
He’s called a neo-nazi homophobe,
And that gives me pause.
Filed under Poems
