I don’t want to be a gastroenterologist.
As a career I vehemently denounce it,
But should fate make me a gastroenterologist
I guess at least I’d learn how to pronounce it.
Zero Weddings, A Funeral, And A Reasonable Question
This evening we sit
In memory of
A weekend that
We came to love.
‘Twas two days long,
Five days too short.
Why’s there no satisfying
Single player sport?
Filed under Poems
Logic, American Dream Style
Monday through Friday
My heart’s only dread
Is that midmorning song
That says “get out of bed.”
Yet come days of Satur
And as well days of Sun
My heart sings in the morning
‘Til the day is all done.
For when clocks of alarm
Cracks serenity’s hold
And says “put on your clothes
“And go do what you’re told”
My vigor and pep
Aren’t what they used to be
Like when I was a child
And still blissfully free.
When instead of alarms
To the sun I awaken
And instead of my job
I get pancakes and bacon
My bliss flows more freely
And I feel stronger.
From now on I’ll work weekends
And be miserable longer.
Filed under Poems
Life Without Makeup
Chapped lips, dry skin,
Hair without a bobby pin,
Baggy pants, hairy pits,
A shirt that hides any sign of tits,
Spotty face, mustache line,
Eau de toilette called “big ass pine,”
A house that others call a sty:
Just another great day of being a guy!
Filed under Poems
Wherein A First-Time Internet Dater Realizes Honesty Is Overrated
I have no ambition,
Motivation, manly vigor.
I have very little money
And just three inches down there.
I wish I were more macho,
Richer, smarter, or just bigger
But your ad said if I’m honest
Then you really couldn’t care.
Filed under Poems
How I’m About To Meet Your Mother… Or Big Chad, The Inmate
As if unprompted, she said
“I am not a chair! Don’t sit on me!”
I’m not inclined to sit on strangers
But now I kind of want to see…
Filed under Poems
Play To Your Outs
If I played a chess game
With some super-intelligent flies
I think I’d probably win
On account of superior size.
Filed under Poems
The Present Present Is Presented By Presence
Your presence
Is like the absence
Of a present
Of being absent.
That’s how I feel
Which is to say
Your absence is a present
So please go away.
Filed under Poems
Lullaby For A Cynical Man-Child
Grizzly bear
Sitting there
Playing with
My ex-wife’s hair.
He seems happy.
She seems dead.
Yes I’m morbid.
Now, off to bed.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 