Sometimes I love writing poems;
Of that there is no doubt.
But sometimes I’m like a single mom on welfare
Just tryin’ to crank another one out.
Tag Archives: Black Humor
In Case You’d Forgotten
Back in the Western USA
In 1800 somethin’
A couple cowboys realized
Their hearts, they were a thumpin’.
The cowboys had been life long friends
And though they both were male
They rode to Brokeback Mountain
And they gave up on the trail.
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!
We used to have some cowboys
To protect our town from raids,
But now we have to check
Our cowboy guardians for AIDS!
They use to be quick to the draw
But now they have more fun
With the sheathing than the drawing
Of their aforementioned gun!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!
One cowboy found his saddle’s
Grown less comfortable with time. He
Found this was the case
Unless their romance they would stymie.
But the cowboys needed horses
Like they found they needed lasses
And they replaced their ponies
With one another’s (whoaaa!)
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!
Yodel
Oodle
Yodel
Adel
Odel
Soooooooo…
Doooooooo…
Myyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
Poems So Dark They Probably Stole Your Bike
If a child can decide to be
A gender they weren’t born,
Can know their sexual preferences
Then, honestly, I’m torn…
I think that future pedophiles
In elementary school
Might worry about fitting in
(And I don’t mean being cool).
——————————————————–
I once dated a Japanese girl.
When we broke up I tried to be nice.
She didn’t understand the first time
So I had to drop the bomb twice.
——————————————————–
I asked a guy in a wheelchair
“Who’s your favorite actor.”
The guy replied “Christopher Reeve.”
He asked me “Who’s yours?”
I said “Christopher Walken,”
And then the guy asked me to leave.
——————————————————–
One more joke for this morning,
And this one’s as good as it gets:
Who are Iraq’s athletic heroes?
That would be the ’01 New York Jets.
Filed under Poems
New Data Indicates Many Catholics Don’t Enjoy Limericks
I think if I were a nun
I’d want to carry a gun
‘Cause I wouldn’t enjoy
Being mistook for a boy
When the priest says he wants to “have fun.”
Filed under Poems
Bad Romance
I love you
Like Japan loves tentacles,
Like psychos love murder
And goth teens love pentacles.
I love you
Like Chris Pratt loves his raptors
And people with Stockholm
Syndrome love their captors.
I love you
Like a farmer loves cattle,
Like that one guy you know
Loves leather and a paddle.
I love you
Like Tarantino loves gore
And it’s for these reasons
I can’t see you no more.
Filed under Poems
40 Virgins Is A Better Incentive… Just Saying
They mentioned becoming Jewish.
They said I ought and should.
Then the bris and lack of bacon came up
And Hell started to sound real good.
Filed under Poems
Yep, Still Single…
Cancer is better than feminists.
Of this I am convinced.
I know people who beat cancer
And haven’t heard from it since.
But fate is not so happy
For those who’ve contracted feminism
For between them and common sense
Is a nigh-incurable schism.
Cancer kills quickly and painfully.
Feminism’s mostly the same
Except it lacks social stigma
And casts a whole lot more blame.
Feminists ask for equality
While cancer makes all of us equal.
Cancer terminates us while feminism
Makes an all-female terminator sequel.
And if you find you’re a feminist
Whether long-term or out of the blue
You have to live with yourself. With cancer
That’s something you don’t have to do.
Filed under Poems
Especially If Her Name Is Daisy
My favorite flowers are daisies.
My favorite black president is Obama.
My favorite meal and my favorite animal
Both are the same: They’re yo’ mama.
Filed under Poems
How To Fail Less
If at first you don’t succeed
Find out who has made it so
Then stab that person ’til they bleed
And on to victory you’ll go.
This strategy has proven good
Historically for folks who are male
But wait! Do it not you should
If you cause yourself to fail.
Filed under Poems
Trigger Warning: This Poem Contains Thought Crime
You say I have privilege
Because I’m male and white.
You call me uninformed
Because I don’t think you’re right.
You can have my privilege too.
All you must do to try it
Is to move out of the cities
Where “recreation” means “to riot.”
You can disagree with me
While you drink another beer
Thanks to taxes paid by this poet
Making 4-figures a year.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 