This month we will experience
The NFL’s preseason
In which millionaires hit each other
Deapite the lack of any reason,
And we the fans will cheer
To kick our team’s rival’s posterior
Because we can’t play ourselves
Since we’re genetically inferior.
We’ll sit and eat and fart a bit
And somehow manage to sweat.
At the end half of us will sob
While half say “best preseason yet!”
Then we picture our team’s victory
And order larger pants
With the logo of some other team
That actually has a chance.
Filed under Poems
You can’t mock someone ’cause they’re fat,
Ugly, stupid, stuff like that.
You can’t make jokes about a race
(At least not to somebody’s face).
You can’t gay-bash, slut-shame, or mock
The way one laughs or thinks or talks.
But you can defame or spew hate at
Those with neckbeards or a fedora hat.
Filed under Poems
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
Roses are reds,
Violets are blue,
These are both valid points, and I’ll address them in a moment, but first…
But does anyone stop to comfort the violets in their sorrow? Even once?
No!
You know, depression is a chemical imbalance and has many dangerous side effects. But when it becomes a part of ones identity, as it has for the violets, it transcends its mortal debilitation and becomes a blight on the very soul.
When I’m elected, I’m going to make violets purple again! And not by adding rose colored glasses, no. Not by that. Who needs all the thorns roses bring anyway? No, I dream of a garden where honest, hardworking violets can grow bigly without the radical redness of roses!
In other words, f*** you roses.
Let’s Get Pruning ™
This poem brought to you by Goldman Sachs.
Filed under Poems
I’m driving down the interstate,
The freeway, highway, expressway.
I see folks who don’t want to wait,
Folks who sin, folks who pray.
I see lines of cement, concrete
Cutting green and yellow squares
Through fields of grass and corn and wheat,
Driving right through anywhere.
I pass by Costco, Sam’s Club, Joe’s,
Past rectangular white houses
Avoiding eye contact from those
Who wear jeans and shoes and blouses.
Then I take exit one-o-eight there
Past the fence the cows broke through
And I say goodbye to anywhere
And say hello again to you.
Filed under Poems
The plots of every video game
Turn out to be exactly the same:
An underdog becomes more skilled
Until the villain can be killed.
I created a game of my own
That you can play without a phone
In which a group of Demon Lords
Present you with various rewards.
Some give freedom, some give wealth.
Some guarantee you perfect health.
Some will make the world at peace
Or let you meet the cast of “Grease.”
Your character has just one year
(Minus time for sleeping, work, and beer)
To help your choice of Demon Lord
Get the power to give you your reward.
And after all is said and done
Whichever Demon eventually won
Will not give you what they said.
They’ll do what’s best for them instead.
How many of you think “sounds like fun?”
Oh really? I guess that’s no one…
The name of the game is Election Day.
It’s coming in November to the USA.
If I had a lot of money
I would make the world a little more funny.
If I had a lot of money
I would create scholarships
For “liberal studies” majors,
Because the world needs more jokes.
If I had a lot of money
I would buy a TV station
And have it play “Groundhog Day”
On repeat forever, because irony.
If I had a lot of money
I would buy all the yachts
And rename them after penis puns
Then sell them back to their original owners,
But only the ones who didn’t laugh
Because rich people who don’t laugh at penis puns
Are the reasons I write poems like this in the first place.
If I had a lot of money
I would apologize to the liberal studies majors
But only because I prefer a leafless pool.
If I had a lot of money
I would eat really well,
But never what was on the menu
And always something with lots of cinnamon
Because cinnamon farming is hard work
And those guys deserve support,
But also because I really like cinnamon.
If I had a lot of money
I would defund the space program
And put that money into teleportation research
Because seriously people, priorities!
If I had a lot of money
I would roll in my money,
But only the paper bills
And only once,
And whenever I paid people with that money
I would look sheepish
Because my paper money was all wrinkled
And because I’m a nice guy
Despite having a lot of money
And because I kind of look like a sheep.
If I had a lot of money
It would be because people bought my books.
Just sayin’.
If I had a lot of money
I wouldn’t have a fancy car
Because women already like me plenty
And to show my support for teleportation research.
If I had a lot of money
I would have a dog named cinnamon
And a yacht named “Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the D.”
If I had a lot of money
I would have so much money
That money could buy me love.
I’d buy love for all the people I’ve hurt
With my poetry these last few years
And for the liberal studies majors
Who aren’t going to find it any other way.
If I had a lot of money
I would be very rich.
Until then, I’m voting Bernie Sanders.
Filed under Poems
