Somewhere between the lobby
And my destination floor
The elevator chose
Not to move up anymore.
Perhaps the lift malfunctioned
When the console met my fists
But hey, no more classic rock
With jazzy little twists!
Tag Archives: Bad
Why I Don’t Go To Open-Mics Anymore
With a voice like something crushed between a bagpipe warming up
And an elephant gargling human teeth, kevlar, and 7-Up
She turned her face towards me (which neither she nor I enjoyed)
And said “Thank you for listening. That was “Hey you” by Pink Floyd.”
Filed under Poems
Peasant Problems
They told me to lift dumbbells
‘Cause my arms were far too thin.
I couldn’t check if they were right
‘Cause Congress wouldn’t let me in.
Filed under Poems
She’s Lying…
Everything’s fine.
I won’t get mad.
I don’t care about your exes.
I’m almost ready.
I’ll call you right back.
I don’t mind you buying that Lexus.
I really don’t care.
I really don’t mind.
I really (insert anything here).
No, I’m not jealous
And if we get married
I’ll never make you watch Shakespeare.
Filed under Poems
The Hippies Are Alive And Well
Sometimes I like to sit
And feel the wind between my toes,
To plant some seeds behind my ears
And see if something grows,
To boil a pot of water
Then cool it with my breath.
I call it “life with nature.”
Dad calls it “side-effects of meth.”
Filed under Poems
A Spartan Limerick
Imagine that after a battle
You found an Athenian child with the cattle…
The adopter would be thanked
But if the kid couldn’t be spanked
The adopters are up a Greek without a paddle.
Filed under Poems
Now I’m Going To Get A Bunch Of Calls And Texts From Concerned People Who Think I’m Depressed When, No, I’m Just Not Particularly Inspired And MyPrevious Poems Involved How Much I Hate Zucchini And Soccer So I Figured I’d Just Publish This One. (Also, Around The Time I Wrote “Poems” In This Title I Became Unable To See What I Was Typing Because My Phone’s Screen Is Too Small So Please Forgive Any Tupoes). Also, Is There A Limit To How Long A Title Can Be?
If I weren’t so cynical
I’d probably be equally sad,
Not because I’m cynical
But because the world’s just bad.
Flirting In Canada
I was a man
And she was not.
She hadn’t noticed me
But I thought she was hot.
I approached her politely
And told her “I’m Dan.”
She was, in hindsight, not pleased
So I got two years in the can.
I remember when men
Were not seen as a foe,
But not anymore
Thanks to Justin Trudeau.
Filed under Poems
This Is Closer To Reality Than I’d Like (And Yes, Niche Does Rhyme With Itch)
Sometimes I wish I were an itch,
An itch that can’t be scratched
So I could bug the ugly thug
To whom you are attached.
Then when you were single
I would steal away your heart
And just like that eternal itch
We’d never be apart.
But eventually you’d hate me
And the scratching I’d inspire
And you’d dump me for some other jerk
Of whom you would soon tire
Then I would swoop back to you,
Your faithful little itch
And maybe this time you won’t dump me?
What do you mean my fetish is niche…
Filed under Poems
Nice Guys Finish Last… It’s A Gift
All I want for Christmas
Is a lump of coal.
I hope I get one soon.
My only problem
Is I’m a good boy
And also that it’s June.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 