Styrofoam peanuts
Plus some sugar and orange paint:
Still in business how?

Styrofoam peanuts
Plus some sugar and orange paint:
Still in business how?

Filed under Poems
Trump’s on Epstein’s list.
Someone’s gun went boom too soon.
England’s a hellhole.
Filed under Poems
There once was a CEO
Who went to a Coldplay show.
The HR-H.O.E.
Said, “Kiss cam? OMG!”
And now the whole world’s in the know.
Filed under Poems
So folks are setting off fireworks
On the night of July 3rd
And at first, I’ll admit I was tempted
To flip such folks the bird.
In the spirit of peace and happiness
I instead propose humbly
To instead give them drugs and fireworks
In massive quantities.
Sure, this year the death toll
May be massive, but I say
It’s a way to purge the people
Who can’t wait just one more day.
Filed under Poems
July 4th is a holiday
At least here in the USA
That’s currently four days away
But some folks think that it’s ok
To have a firework display
Every single night and day
Instead of waiting. Now I pray
That those people will go away
So when upon my bed I lay
Into dreamland I’ll go and stay.
Filed under Poems
Iran said to America, “You da bomb.”
America said, “No, you da bomb.”
And everything would have been ok
Except Israel ran and told their mom.
Filed under Poems
There once was a man in a political seat
Whose rhetoric inspired much political heat.
Because of this protestors did amass across the nation
In a movement called “NoKings” which is a hot recent sensation.
Alas, the hockey players in Los Angeles are sad
And the Sacremento basketballers also feel mad.
I for one support our Californian athlete friends
And wish the players happiness until this protest ends.
Filed under Poems
I’m 0.02 football fields tall
And I weigh 153 basketballs.
My waist circumference is the cube root of 120 teaspoons
And maybe the metric system isn’t bad after all.
Filed under Poems
Donald and Elon sitting in a tree
T.W… oops… X.I.N.G.
First come threats
War comes later
And wait, is that Kanye playing mediator?
Filed under Poems
Timmy was a troubled child
Who wouldn’t do his work.
When Timmy didn’t pass his class
His mom became a jerk
And met with Timmy’s principal:
“If Timmy doesn’t walk
“At graduation, your boss and I
“Will have a little talk.”
Well the principal’s salary
Is based on graduation rate
So he waived Timmy’s missing stuff
And got thanked by the state.
Timmy is a graduate.
The principal got paid.
Society got a synoym
For “screwed” and “loved” and “laid.”
Filed under Poems