Tag Archives: Bad

Poem: Bad, Pun: Also Bad

We who play accordions

Know the Native Americans want us

Because they want to have a kid

And name it Polkahontas.

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Dear Not-America, Love The U.S. of A

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!

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The Farmer’s Breakup

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.

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War Isn’t So Bad…

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.

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The Complete Abbreviated Works Of Shakespeare

“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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When The Light Goes Out Things Get Dark

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…

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Shucka-Shucka-Sucka! (Shucks?)

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 Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For

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.”

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Why Cops Love Summer

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!

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Autumn in Detroit

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.

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