Today I’ve done nothing
But sit on my butt.
I woke up, closed the blinds,
Checked the door (locked and shut)
Then reveled for hours
Of sedentary bliss
Never once caring
About what I might miss.
And as nothing happened
For a fair bit of time
I had no new ideas
And committed no crime,
Consumed no nutrition
And didn’t make noise,
And somehow refrained
From molesting young boys.
I didn’t feel sadness,
Nor did I have fun
So for sunday the score is:
Catholics: 0, Poet: 1
Filed under Poems
The french-fried potatoes
That I bought from Wendy’s
Are covered in tattoos
And wear pants around their knees,
They complain about white privilege
And say “sup” instead of “hey.”
That’s when I remembered
That today is black fry day.
Today’s the day we give our thanks
To those who made the lending banks
Who’ll help us spend the day to come
By buying stuff until we’re numb.
We’ll also eat some spuds and birds
As we exchange our thankful words,
Then look outside and see the sweet
Bright lights of Christmas across the street.
Filed under Poems
If I were a flamingo, um…
You wouldn’t be reading this poem.
If I were a beaver
You wouldn’t be reading it either.
If I were a yak
You’d have the last 10 seconds back.
But alas I am a human
So if you want to sue me, you can.
Filed under Poems
I walk in the white flower garden,
One block of peace
In a mountain of steel,
Glass, smoke, and grease.
The flowers have tattooed
Their white petals brown,
Exposed their stems
For a night on the town.
They speak of old flowers
Who once shared their bed,
How far their particular
Pollen has spread.
You can watch how they wilt
While they boast that they thrive
And you wonder why bees
Opt to stay in the hive.
Filed under Poems
The animal lovers called it
“A barbaric dog fighting cabal.”
I called it “Well meaning people
“Who haven’t discovered Pokemon Go.”
Take that vegans!
Filed under Poems
Even though I can’t
Count syllables properly
I can still write hai…
Filed under Poems
If a player kicks a keeper
And the team won’t throw him out
Then you keep the keeper-kicker
And the kicked-keeper loses clout
But when the keeper-kicker seeks
To eat the kippers that he picked
He finds the kicked-keeper’s keepers
Had the aforementioned kippers nicked.
So the keeper who was kicked
And the keeper-kicker keep
Debating whether the kipper-nicker
Could be safely called a creep.
Meanwhile, the kipper-nicker
Reveals the kippers from his knickers,
Looks upon the bickering keeper
And his kicker and he snickers.
Filed under Poems
He showed us how to circumcise a redneck
In a way that none of us had done foresaw:
He found aforementioned redneck in his bedroom
Then kicked the redneck’s cousin in the jaw!
Filed under Poems
Hercules is strong
But what about Hiscules?
Bunch of sexist greeks…
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 