I have no ambition,
Motivation, manly vigor.
I have very little money
And just three inches down there.
I wish I were more macho,
Richer, smarter, or just bigger
But your ad said if I’m honest
Then you really couldn’t care.
Tag Archives: Bad
Play To Your Outs
If I played a chess game
With some super-intelligent flies
I think I’d probably win
On account of superior size.
Filed under Poems
Lullaby For A Cynical Man-Child
Grizzly bear
Sitting there
Playing with
My ex-wife’s hair.
He seems happy.
She seems dead.
Yes I’m morbid.
Now, off to bed.
Filed under Poems
I Had An Idea And I Ran With It… Please Don’t Sue Me
I read a headline today
About some medical supplements
Who killed a baker’s apprentice.
I couldn’t help but say “oh boy.”
What else can you say
When you read in the paper
A headline that says
“Pills bury dough boy.”
Filed under Poems
You CAN’t Win ‘Em All
If I CAN be CANdid
That which CAN be CANned
CAN make an author realize
That their idea doesn’t have
A logical and satisfying conclusion.
Filed under Poems
Career Advice
If you were born with giant feet
And a spherical scarlet nose
And super pale powdery skin
And carrying a plastic rose
I think you should become a clown
And make a living so
‘Cause if you don’t then people
Might think you’re creepy, just so you know.
Filed under Poems
Apparently, Caring About The Details Is Somewhat Important
Flashlight, flashdark,
Flash anywhere.
Just so long as you flash me
I really do not care.
Flashlight, flashdark,
Flash all sorts of beams.
I’ll flash you all you want
Every night inside your dreams.
Filed under Poems
The Philosopher’s Counterpart
He who has wisdom
Is worthy of praise,
Yet wise men do not need such admiration.
He of fit body
Needs less caution of dainties,
Yet to seek them is not his preoccupation.
He of good spirits
Will enjoy entertainments,
But he who needs them is not the said man
So I’ll enjoy the praise, dainties,
Entertainments for them,
Happily serving as only I can.
Filed under Poems
I Can’t, On Account Of My Poor Constitution And Admirable Apathy
Just a few hours
Since last I wrote verse
My health and comfort
Have grown ever worse.
I’m caughing and wheezing,
Congested and achy,
Borderline antisocial
And across-the-line flaky.
But I find in this state
Of poor manners and health
I’ve gained more than money…
A much grander wealth:
The fortune and glory
My sickness imposed
Was not giving a shit.
It’s better than I’d supposed.
Filed under Poems
Oxymoron Of The Week: Religious Humor
A religious type of joke
Is often what offends
An amazing group of people’s
Imaginary friends.
I will mock all religions
In this poem I now write
Except, or course, for Islam
‘Cause I’m flammable and white.
I saw a gay pride event
As I was walking to my car.
They’d gathered ’round the Catholic Church
So the priests needn’t walk too far.
I wanted to amuse a Jewish bloke
And so I took a stab. I
Think they might have laughed had I
Not tried to high-five the Rabbi.
I met a “spiritual but not religious”
Person just the other day.
I asked them “is my latte ready?”
They said “yes, now go away.”
I’m not sure about Agnostics.
If Skeptics have jokes, I don’t know ’em.
The Buddhists suffer eternally
Whether or not they read this poem.
I want to end with one last joke
To make you giggle or scoff:
Don’t get circumcised on a budget
‘Cause it might be a rip off.
The Daily Travesty 