Sometimes I lie away at night
Wondering which fancy jackass
Invented the word “pretentious.”
If our positions should coincide
In an unlit walkway between buildings
I’d like to thrust a limb pertaining to my lower body
To the rear-side of the juncture connecting his counterparts of the aforementioned lower-body elements
Purely for hedonic gratification.
Filed under Poems
“Pusillanimous”
Was how I described my date.
I did not get laid.
Filed under Poems
I wanted to play hockey
And be like a Canuck.
I settled for air hockey
But I didn’t have a puck.
A lot of you tuned out of the story
Because the last rhyme might be (from the record struck)
And for those of you who think that
Too bad! You’re out of luck.
(Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk)
Filed under Poems
I asked a friendly prostitute
If she’d service a leper.
She looked at me a moment
And she said “yep, yep, yepper!”
We had a crazy evening.
Yes, it was quite a trip!
I asked “how can I thank you?”
She said “just leave the tip.”
Filed under Poems
We haven’t had apocalypse yet
In this world in which we thrive.
We don’t fear the undead
For we are the un-alive.
We don’t need no fallout
To keep us inside all day long
And everyone is perfect
Except the half of us who’re wrong.
Food is not a luxury
(Except for homeless folks)
And only half our news today
Is a cruel, ignoble hoax.
So I hope you feel safe
As you stroll a corpseless street
Because, while life is kinda hard,
You aren’t yet a zombie’s treat
Filed under Poems
You’re unhygienic,
Ill-tempered and mean.
You’re perhaps the worst tipper
That I’ve ever seen.
Your humor is childish.
Your language is coarse.
You’ve the breath of a dog
And the face of a horse.
You burned down my house,
Ran away with my wife,
Destroyed everything happy
I had in my life.
You’ve made far more enemies
Than you’ve made amends
But I’m white and you’re black
So I’ll say that we’re friends.
Filed under Poems
If you’re a divorce lawyer
Being polygamous is wise
‘Cause you’ll get a lot of business
And you’re already good with lies.
Filed under Poems
If you have offspring
And they are not Satan’s toys
Then you don’t know your kids
(Or you children aren’t boys).
If the latter is true
Well, it gets better dude!
If your children are girls…
I’m sorry, you’re screwed.
Filed under Poems
A minute with me
Is an hour in Heaven,
But no woman will know
‘Cause I’m five-foot-eleven.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 