Twinkling blacktop ice
Gleams like diamonds. I turn right
But my car goes left.
Not A… Not B…
“Nazi” is a word we say
When people think a certain way
That is different from what we
Are told the world’s supposed to be.
Filed under Poems
“Hey Guys! What If We Hijack The Playoffs And Pretend It’s A Cool Innovation Instead Of A Paywall? I Bet Nobody Will Cancel Their Subscription The Day After.” -Some Peacock Exec, Probably
There once was a streaming station
Who aired a playoff game to the nation.
The broadcast was bad
And no one will be sad
If the ratings show as “Devastation.”
Filed under Poems
I Actually Don’t Know… I Just Write Too Many Eight Line Poems
We played D&D
For nine hours today
So my brain is quite fried
And I hope it’s okay
That this poem is brief,
Just seven lines long.
“Why not eight?” you ask?
Sometimes Leaning Into The Delusion Is The Best Antidote For Delusion
I think we should make the minimum wage
A million dollars an hour
So we could see the system collapse
And redefine the balance of power.
Filed under Poems
Word Choice Matters
Tonight my pipes were in trouble
Because they’d broken the law.
The cops spotted their getaway
And shouted “There! Haha”
And then the cops made a booboo
As they called to the pipes in the night:
They shouted “Freeze!” and now
There’s no water to shower tonight.
Filed under Poems
This Poem Was Written In Real Time…
The waitress took our order
With a smile on her face
And then apparently decided
To desert the human race.
More than half an hour later
We’ve killed a pitcher of beer.
Our senses are still present
Though the help has disappeared.
It’s midnight at the bar,
Then it’s one here at the grill.
Our belly’s good and empty
But our hope is holding still.
We’re waiting on our sandwich
And it’s 2025,
And the chef has just confirmed
That the waitress is alive.
My beard is grey, my hair is gone,
I drool and shift and snore…
Then the waitress comes out smiling
And she says “Five minutes more.”
Filed under Poems
Lycanthropyness (Other Spellings Acceptable)
I’m basically a werewolf
But instead of being transformy
When the full moon rises
I get very horny.
The other difference
Between a werewolf and my ways
Is that I’m also were-horny
The other 28 days.
Filed under Poems
When Your 12-Year-Old Tells A Dirty Joke
A missionary and his doggy
Went to town via 69th street.
This poem would be longer
But I don’t know grownup sheet.
The Lightbulb Gets An Idea
How many does it take to change me
The humans like to ask
To amuse themselves at my expense
While in my light they bask.
They love me not for what I am
But only what I do
And so I ask: Need I be changed
Or should the change be you?
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 