Sometimes a thought
Is not what it ought,
A fact that, alas, you can’t change.
But type it in bold
And voila! Behold
It’s still pointless, but I had you going for a while.
Tag Archives: Bad
And Who’s This Floyd Guy Anyway?
We could talk about the ego,
Super-ego, or the id
But I don’t think that does justice
To the amazing things Freud did.
Anyone can acknowledge
That people’s brains are weird,
Have a couch to lie on,
Or grow a snazzy beard,
But how many psychiatrists
Can also play guitar
Like Dr. Sigmund “Pink” Freud did?
That guy was quite a star!
Filed under Poems
‘Ow Ore-ible!
I said I was her rock,
Her anchor, her wall.
She sold me to a mining company.
Alas, that is all.
Filed under Poems
Haven’t Done One Of These For A While…
All that glimmers
Is not blue.
It isn’t helpful
But its true.
Yes I’m tired;
You were right.
You are welcome,
And good night.
Filed under Poems
Whoopee!
Once in a while you pass something
That forever changes your life,
That frees you from discomfort
And gastronomic strife.
They come without much fanfare,
Just a single tiny toot,
And you don’t even mind
If the air they do pollute.
Every once in a while
You don’t know what to do
‘Til something in your gut
Will take the lead for you
And the winds that held you back
Now are broken. All is well.
All those who never knew you
Ask “who’s that?” And “what’s that smell?”
Did you ever know that you’re my hero,
The reason why my intestine sings?
All cheese I cut is for your glory!
You pass the wind beneath my wings.
Filed under Poems
Dream Jobs
When I was a baby
I went to a farm
And learned about the origins of milk.
I was curious and asked
What happens if you’re tasked
With squeezing udders of the masculine cow’s ilk.
And when farmers laughed
And the parents cringed
I knew I’d stumbled on something good
And I knew when I grew up
I would be an artificial inseminator
Whether or not I really ought or should.
Filed under Poems
An Only-Somewhat-Exaggerated Tale Of Today (Dedicated To Seth)
Today I drove a thousand miles
From WA to San Jose,
With a bunch of flaming morons
Tailgating me the whole way,
Weaving through the traffic
Like quilters yearning for death
All behind a mini cooper
Going 20 (License Plate: IMSETH).
As I recline, safe somehow,
On my Californian bed
A realization formed inside
My woeful weary head.
I-5 South, the freeway
A thousand miles through crazyville
Should better be renamed
The route of all evil.
Filed under Poems
The Terrible Luck Of Being Born Into Non-Dysfunctional Cultural Paradigms
Yesterday, on Facebook,
I saw an event
That a friend wanted to,
In the future, say they went.
It was a play by Young Jean Lee
Called “Straight White Men,”
And, somewhere in my soul
I thought “Lord, not again!”
So I read the description
Of this play, ’cause ’twas late.
It said “a comedy about the people
“Who we all love to hate.”
Now that was enlightening,
And since then I’ve learned
Racism’s when white men feel good
About all that they’ve earned.
So as a straight white man
Who lives in a place
Where the windows aren’t broken
And walls aren’t defaced,
Where all violent crimes
Are, in general, rare,
I learned that such luxuries
Just aren’t fair.
I learned that I’m “privileged,”
‘Cause my life doesn’t suck,
That I’m not a poor druggy
Quite simply by luck,
That my checking account
Still has money to spare
Not because of good choices
But because life’s not fair.
Straight white men are evil
For being ourselves.
We should donate our homes
To black people or elves.
Up ’til now I’ve lived honestly,
Tried to do what was right.
I see now that’s impossible
Because I am white!
Filed under Poems
Is My Bed The Nicest Place On Earth, Or Is It Just Tuesday?
Two feet from where I’m sitting
There’s a mighty gale I hear.
I thought a bird hit my window,
But turns out it was a deer.
At the zoo a fish died (drowning)
And some penguins froze to death.
A politician stopped complaining
And turns out nothing rhymes with “death.”
I watched a Chris Rock movie
And not one person cussed
And in exactly fifteen minutes
I have to leave to catch the bus.
Filed under Poems
A Friendly Poem For The Boss On Your Last Day
For all of the work
U’ve put into my life,
Can I ever thank you enough?
Kause of you I can say
Yeah, life’s terrible, but hey! Now I
Own a whole lot more stuff!
Ur name here <~~~~
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 