Una vez hubo un copo de nieve cerca de ti.
Podrían ser homosexuales o judíos.
Envíales esta publicación
Como un asado sutil
Porque eso es lo que te pedí que hicieras.
My Sanctuary City Poem
Filed under Poems
The Whistleblower’s Poem
There once was a worker from Spain
Who manufactured a plane.
He said “This door’s for Boeing.
“Please don’t ask why it’s glowing.”
They said “Sure”, and then cut the cocaine.
Filed under Poems
No Respect (But So Far No Consequences…)
Far away, in the Land of Grent,
There was a forbidden shrine
Where the chosen champions meant
To make their mark and dine
Among the Gods, and so they spent
Their days praying to the divine.
My cat, however, just up and went
And peed in the holy wine.
Filed under Poems
Everything Has A Purpose
He was born a maggot
And he grew into a fly
Until my cat got hold of him
And then he had to die.
We celebrate his passing
With a vigorous fist bump
For he reminded us our fat cat
Can manage still to jump.
Filed under Poems
When You’re 29 And Your Brain Ain’t Like It Used To Be
Some like it hot.
Some like it cold.
Some start their poem with the same cliche two days in a row
Because hey, I’m tired and old.
Filed under Poems
How I Feel About Yoga
Some like it hot.
Some like it cold.
I just don’t like it
And I will not be sold.
Filed under Poems
You See Four Old Ladies Hogging The Tennis Court, But I See…
Four towers in the corners
Of eight-hundred and eighty square feet
Separated by a net
And a ray of Summer’s heat.
One let fly a bullet
And their counterpart stepped back,
Eyed the bouncing projectile,
Then gave a hearty thwack.
And so the ball of fire
Soared between the warriors four
Until finally to out of bounds
Their common goal did soar.
“A point for us!” The victors cried
As fell the reaper’s sickle
Upon the party who had lost
The game of ball and pickle…
Filed under Poems
Sunbathing? Sure…
I thought about the venus flytrap
And how cool are carnivorous plants.
Then I thought about the opposite
And how we might enhance
An animal that ate no meat
And was immobile and sat in the sun.
Turns out there’s an animal like that:
The “Californian”.
Filed under Poems
I Actually Wrote A French Poem Too, But If You’re Reading This You Probably Don’t Like That Kinda Thing
If I were born in France
I’d have had a harder childhood.
I’m a pretty nerdy dude
Which means it wouldn’t be too good
To be in school and hunted
Like hounds hunt a fox
Except I’m French, to I’d surrender
To all the athletic Jacques.
Filed under Poems
If Greta Thunberg Were Black
There once was a bigass windmill
That stood on a bigass hill.
A bigass gust of wind
Made the bigass fan spinned
So why I still got a power bill?
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 