To all of you who laughed at me
When I said “Dragons are real”
I present you: California.
Now how do you feel?
Tag Archives: California
Almost Heaven, West Virginia?
There was an affordable city
That wasn’t all dirty and shitty.
Then it made the news
And earned plenty of views
And Californians are coming… a pity!
Filed under Poems
Sunbathing? Sure…
I thought about the venus flytrap
And how cool are carnivorous plants.
Then I thought about the opposite
And how we might enhance
An animal that ate no meat
And was immobile and sat in the sun.
Turns out there’s an animal like that:
The “Californian”.
Filed under Poems
Somewhere In California
My man bought a Tesla
Which would normally be fun
But it came with a purse
And his hair’s now a bun.
I told him I liked him
Because he was manly.
Now he’s leaving me
For his old roommate, Stanley.
Filed under Poems
A Brief History of the Gold Rush
Back in the wee days of US of A
Some guys went a digging and one shouted “Hey!”
“I found me some gold!” “Oy, I found some too!”
Then guess what everyone wanted to do?
And so people came from all over the planet
To dig through the dirt and, with their eyes, scan it
For speckles and nuggets and loose bits of gold,
And some were successful, or so I’ve been told.
Now as the prospectors from far and near both
Were digging up gold, a woman did quoth:
“The men are all leaving to get rich or die,
“And thus we will join them because… you know why.”
And so California became quite the haven
For men who, for gold in the rivers, were slavin’.
Most folks were strike-outers, but some lucky strike-biggers
Wed the first Frisco lasses, the real gold-diggers.
And Then They Hear “Hee, Hee, Hee” And Start Screaming About Representation For Other Pronouns In The Onomatopoeia Of Laughter
California made it illegal
To discriminate based on hairstyle.
This is one of the greatest things
I’ve heard in quite a while
Because, based on liberal input,
I know that all white people are racist
And I’ve developed the ultimate strategy
For cutting my hair on that basis:
It’s illegal to bias one’s choices
For traditional hairstyles of race
Like cornrows or dreadlocks or afros
And because this is the case
I can shave my head to spell letters,
Specifically “I disagree.”
Now watch as the left calls me Hitler
And I just say “Hee, hee, hee.”
Dedicated to Helen, My Evil Stepsister 🙂
Want to suggest a poem topic? Leave a comment or email thedailytravesty@yahoo.com
Filed under Poems
A Song For All Seasons
The hills are alive
With the sound of music
And by “Sound of Music”
We mean wildfires
And by “The hills”
We mean California.
Filed under Poems
California, Son
I wish I could go to the beach
Without hearing the word “impeach,”
Could drive my car for quite a while
And go more than a half a mile,
Could say the word “black”
And not draw stares.
It’s where everything matters
But nobody cares.
Filed under Poems
Impression: Los Angeles
I stood out here once before
Seeking what could not be found
Head to toe in the neon cloak of midnight
Listening for the absence of a sound.
I saw humans crawl past empty sidewalks
Burning gas and paying fares
On the way to work that will empower them
To buy their surplus worries and cares.
They seek comfort in a glasses, pills, and needles,
Pray for hope through a politician’s lies.
Paychecks promise them the satisfaction
Of being happy in someone else’s eyes.
Red-eye pilots flee this urban heaven
Carrying those with sense enough to flee.
I just read my scripts and idly wonder
What it’s like to see a real tree.
Filed under Poems
I’m Off To The Wild West… California!
When I was a little bitty boy
So young it was okay to be strange
I wanted to be a cowboy
And ride the wide-open range.
My best friends would be a stallion,
My rifle, and my hat.
Needless to say as I grew up
My life diverged from that.
I play cards at the old saloon
When my work’s done for the week.
I drive a sleek black mustang
And I’m sometimes known to wreak.
I may sit behind a desk
Playing quick-draw with my phone
But I really just want to saddle up,
Ride off, and be alone.
A few things stand between me
And the life I’m meant to lead.
In the Chicago city limits
I can’t buy a proper steed.
I look quite like a bad boy
So the ladies are all smiles and purrs
But they never die at the end of the episode
And they object when I wear my spurs.
In my heart I am a cowboy.
I dress and talk like one
And, thanks to the permit office,
I can own my own six-gun.
It has to be locked up
Separately from the ammunition.
But tomorrow I’m moving West
To fulfill my grand ambition.
Filed under Poems
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