Ten persent of school
Is lurning how to get along.
Forty-two persent
Is lurning that you spelled stuph rong.
Maybe five persent
Is how to fill your plate and cup.
The other eighty-five persent
Is how to add things up.
Tag Archives: Children
Baby’s First Gangsta Rap
I hit my brother
And hit my mother.
It was not okay.
They said “Don’t hit.”
I said “No shit”
And hit them anyway.
Cops saw the fight,
Turned on their light,
And hit me in the gut.
So hitting’s okay
With the government’s say?
And I was all like “Wut?”
I hit the cop
And hit my pop
With my inflatable hammer.
They cuffed my wrists
To stop my fists
And shut me in the slammer.
I was in jail
‘Cause no one paid bail
And was charged in juvenile court.
I can’t write a sentence
But I’ll attempt repentance
And maybe build a fort.
Filed under Poems
Post-Holiday Pleasures
What’s most nearly opposite
To gently falling rain,
Your lover’s gentle heartbeat,
And comfort of the brain?
The answer starts with “Someone”
And ends with “Else’s baby on a plane.”
Filed under Poems
He Later Worked For The VA
Sitting in the waiting room,
A boy of almost eight,
Who’s never missed a chance to floss,
Nor abided sugar on his plate.
The scream of dental instruments
(And of those on which they’re used)
Leave me with a sense of peace,
Sedate and much amused.
I wore a three-piece suit to school
The morning ‘fore I came.
I was born to be a dentist
Though the others call me lame.
Yet I fear I shall not meet my dream,
Not for lack of smarts or drive
But because I am indifferent
To whether patients stay alive…
Filed under Poems
Watch Out
I saw a sign while driving home
That said “Watch for Children At Play.”
Although inconvenient to not know the time
I made the trade anyway.
Filed under Poems
Trouble In Baltimore
My child asked me this morning
“If hitting is bad,
“How come people hit baseballs?”
Then he flew away.
I later discovered
He was not my child at all.
It was an oriole in disguise.
His sudden aversion to hitting
Makes sense now.
Filed under Poems
The Moment Before You Concede The Custody Battle
When I was but a tiny lad,
Not more than eight years old
My mom would tell me “Go to bed”
And I’d do as I was told.
Now I tuck in my 8-year old
And say “Good night. Sweet dreams.”
And she replies “Keep lecturing me
“And they’ll never hear your screams.”
Filed under Poems
58008 is the new 90210
More men than women study math,
Professionally at least.
This is true from North to South
And also West to East.
It’s not because women are dumb
Or men like math by fate…
It’s that all boys love what happens
When you invert 7,251×8.
Filed under Poems
Why I’m Homeschooled
I knew not how to spell “Schism”
And so I took a wild guess…
“I-t-apostrophe-s-P-
o-i-n-t-l-e-s-s.”
Filed under Poems
Death: A Children’s Book
🤕
This is Stan.
Stan is dead.
Stan’s dead ’cause he hit his head.
😢
When you hit your head you cry
And sometimes you, like Stan, will die
👻
But if you don’t, don’t feel blue…
There are other ways to quit life too!
😷
You can die from a disease
Passed on by friends or mice or fleas.
🤑🎆
You can be killed by overwork
Or even by a firework!
🤡
A clown can kill you at a fair
(Though I’ll admit that’s rather rare)
🦘
Or you can die by kangaroo
(Though I’ll admit that that’s rare too).
❤️
Most folks die of heart disease
From not eating their broccolis.
♋️
Cancer kills a lot of folks
And it’s the butt of many jokes.
💯
Everybody’s going to die
But there’s no need for you to cry,
😤
But if you keep crying soon you can
Meet our head wound idol, Stan!
🤕
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 