We who play accordions
Know the Native Americans want us
Because they want to have a kid
And name it Polkahontas.
We who play accordions
Know the Native Americans want us
Because they want to have a kid
And name it Polkahontas.
Filed under Poems
Hello from America,
Where we play real football!
Our dicks are the same size as yours
Although you’re not as tall.
Our women spend more money
And our kids aren’t well-behaved
But we have free tap water
And most of our roads are paved.
We owe your nation money
That we’ll never repay
But we also have lots of nukes
So please do what we say.
Our politicians are all crooks
And most are wimps as well
But we pledge them our allegiance
And pretend that things are swell.
But speaking patriotically
Our country’s still the best
At drinking booze per-capita
And functioning while stressed.
Here’s how you can emigrate
From where you live right now:
Just walk to California
And never leave. Kapow!
Filed under Poems
If you see a cow
Running o’er the fields of Maine
Please tell her that I was wrong
And to please come home again.
Filed under Poems
We’ve walked among some Autumn glades
Just us and the wind from the helicopter blades.
Falling gently to the ground
Are a leaf and some limbs and an M16 round.
A quaint little creek
Glitters bright mountain green
And, despite all our blood,
Is still cool fresh and clean.
We came here to camp,
Found these meadows to walk,
Because some old men
Wouldn’t sit down and talk,
But we can take solace
And our hearts can still sing
All thanks to the peace
That our murder will bring.
Filed under Poems
“Wherewithin the stuff doth lie
Comes hither forth to thee and I.”
We know not what its meaning may be
But its important to someone with a PhD.
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There is one green light bulb
From an old Christmas tree
In the upper-left-hand plastic ring
Of the thingy that holds together
A six-pack of generic-brand cola,
Reclining in an Ohio landfill,
Never again to be lit
Or decorate a house
Or hold public office,
But the bulb is happy
Because it will outlast the family
Who chucked it in a hefty bag
And forgot all about it.
The bulb remembers.
The bulb is patient.
The bulb is all out of mercy…
Filed under Poems
I once knew a Moroccan
Who thought that I was shockin’.
I gave him a shake
To see what sound he’d make
And he said “That’s a maraca, dumbass!”
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I brought a dozen roses,
A diamond, and a kitten
To serenade by starlight
The lass with whom I’m smitten.
I sang “Every Breath You Take”
To my very special girl.
Then she locked me in her laser sights
And sang me “Goodbye Earl.”
Filed under Poems
The twinkling stream
In sea-foam green
Was strolling o’er the rocks
And on the sand
A merry band
Were clothed in naught but socks.
They danced about,
Let it all hang out,
Just happy to be young,
Especially he,
Who’s six-foot-three
And very amply-hung.
Their harmless fun
Had hurt no one
But the cops lacked any pity:
“This here stream,
“Rural as it may seem,
“Is legally still the city.”
The cops gave out
With an air of clout
Citations to the nudists.
They seemed unstressed
As they got dressed
As if they all were buddhists.
Now clothed, the band
Heeded police demand.
It’s true! I checked on Snopes.
Unclothed, unarmed
They went home unharmed,
So black folks: there’s still hope!
Filed under Poems
Autumn in Detroit:
The trees are red each golden morning,
Crisp as dollar bills
That you stole from someone’s car.
Then comes Autumn’s rain
And the colors turn to gray December,
Dark and full of pain
Like that out-of-business bar.
The snow is heavy, cold
And almost covers the graffiti.
Unmelting, it turns gray
Like the prison window’s tint.
And as you bundle up
In your tick-infested cotton blanket
You smile and thank the Lord
That you do not live in Flint.
Filed under Poems