She killed a man in April.
By May she was convicted.
The day of her execution came;
Her heart, it was conflicted.
The guard came to her cell
And asked what her last meal would be.
She said “I don’t know. What do you want?”
#ReasonsForTheDeathPenalty
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We sat down to play
The latest version of Clue,
Read through the rulebook
To check what was new,
Saw a new character
Named “Mr. Not-White”
And we shouted “Case closed”
And called it a night.
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The day that Venus touched my hand
The night was dark upon the land;
The wind was very chill and grim
And the streetlights’ respites scarce and slim.
As her fingers met with mine
I longed for them to intertwine.
I held on tight as she let go.
How chill and grim the wind did blow!
I asked her why she ran away
But, no longer present, she’d naught to say.
And as I stood there all alone
I realized she stole my phone.
Venus, it seems, knew the pickpocket’s art
But knew not that she stole my heart.
So I launched “Find my iPhone”
And followed with a heart of stone
The steps to find my mobile and
The Venus who had touched my hand.
Down I followed many miles
Towards the thief and all her wiles,
Past the park and through the woods
And into shady neighborhoods
Until upon the spot came I
Where Apple said “Your phone’s nearby,”
And there I saw her, Queen of Love,
My iPhone held with woolen glove.
Her fingers danced light as can be
As she stole my identity.
I called out “Venus, I am Joe!”
She shrugged as if to say “I know.”
Then she shot me in the face
With majestic and transcendent grace.
As I descended to the dead
Her visage filled what was left of my head.
And on that dark and stormy night
When Venus’s left hand touched my right…
That hand which held the fated gun
Which well-ensured my life was done…
And whence the chill, grim wind had blown
I learned the downside of testosterone.
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I ask you now to wonder
On the act of taking plunder
And on pirate-like behavior as a whole:
How does someone with a flag
Holding out a taxman’s bag
Compare to vagrants charging travelers a toll?
And what of other you’s and me’s
Traveling on the seven seas
When a Jolly Roger pulls their cannon out
And says “give us what you’ve got
“Or you’ll probably get shot.”
That’s what piracy and taxes are about!
Now sure, our brand of takers
Cheer beside you for the Lakers
And send you notes before they pull their gun
But they are not made less like Smeagol
Just because their theft is legal
And their pre-audit demeanor is more fun.
I’m not afraid to call BS
On our nation’s IRS.
Now excuse me, for I must go on the run.
As Uber and Lyft are to taxis,
As AirB&B is to lodging
We need a low-cost solution
To enable the art of tax-dodging.
Uber and Lyft are slang and misspellings.
AirB&B is the service plus “air.”
I suggest “AirTyght” for our no-tax service
And if you disagree I don’t care.
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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.
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I was a man
And she was not.
She hadn’t noticed me
But I thought she was hot.
I approached her politely
And told her “I’m Dan.”
She was, in hindsight, not pleased
So I got two years in the can.
I remember when men
Were not seen as a foe,
But not anymore
Thanks to Justin Trudeau.
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