Sometimes you drive
To somewhere about
The middle of nowhere
And you go without
Cellular service
Or the internet.
I’m on my way there
So this poem’s all you get.
Sometimes you drive
To somewhere about
The middle of nowhere
And you go without
Cellular service
Or the internet.
I’m on my way there
So this poem’s all you get.
Filed under Poems
Two Types of Folks Down at the Creek
Saturday’s our day down at the creek
After working one bleak workweek
You wanna catch a trout,
We wanna bash about.
You want some peace,
We want the po-lice.
You wanna photograph a deer
We wanna drink a case o’ beer… Each
You wanna stay in the country all night long
We wanna party worthy of a country song
Feel Inspired to share your own terrible poetry? Email nominations for guest poems to TheDailyTravesty@yahoo.com
Filed under Poems
I hear her dad has fewer teeth
Than guns hung on his walls…
I heard her seven brothers
Got among ’em 19 balls…
I’ve heard her mom got famous
As a former L.A. Ram…
But I heard she ain’t got no beard
So I don’t give a damn!
Filed under Poems
“Chickens don’t believe in God
“So chickens go to Hell.”
That’s what Grandma told me
And so far it’s served me well.
Filed under Poems
One-hundred-ninety miles
Through amber waves of grain
Just to get to work each day
Is messing with my brain.
I thought when I moved to Kansas
To work the Dusty Trail
That I would have some peace and quiet
And time to read my mail.
Instead, I’m driving to Topeka
Inside my economy car,
Not knowing the scale of my map
Or that the “Dusty Trail” is a bar.
And yet I shan’t move closer
Just to shorten my commute,
For one can live inside the city,
But one can’t put it on “mute.”
I love this nation’s country,
Though you might look at me funny,
Yet I’d love to not be in Kansas no more
But I haven’t got the money.
Filed under Poems
Well I live down in Texas ’cause I just can’t take
That California heat.
I go honky tonkin’ on Saturday night
With my two left feet.
My dog died last Tuesday, but I don’t mind,
I’ve got used to it.
And when it comes to tanning evenly, I had a chance
And I totally blew it!
I don’t say the F-bomb, I only say “Truck.”
I fish on the weekends and hunt for duck.
I like to ride horses, and stables I muck,
And if you don’t like women, then country songs suck.
Well this is the part in the song where I
Talk about a girl.
She’s generally half-dressed and wearin’ jewelry
Made out of mother-o’-pearl.
This is a bit of topic, but isn’t the mother of pearl
Just an oyster?
And while I sing about Jesus, I don’t sing about nuns
Or about their cloister.
I don’t say the F-bomb, I only say “Truck.”
I fish on the weekends and hunt for duck.
I like to ride horses, and stables I muck,
And if you don’t like women, then country songs suck.
Someone died of cancer,
Someone cheated on their man.
Someone rode on a choo-choo train
And ate food from a can.
I think I’m running out of
Half-decent cliches,
So Let’s sing the chorus one more time
Then we’ll go our separate ways!
I don’t say the F-bomb, I only say “Truck.”
I fish on the weekends and hunt for duck.
I like to ride horses, and stables I muck,
And if you don’t like women, then country songs suck.
Filed under Lyrics