The sign said “no trespassing,”
But I did.
The police came driving up,
So I hid.
The cops found me out,
So I lied.
They sent me off to prison,
Where I reside.
They ask “would you do it again?”
I say “yes.”
Were I smarter, I wouldn’t be
In this mess,
Because next time at Nasa
My face
Won’t be in the hole for
“Take your picture in space.”
Filed under Poems
My best friend is a hired gun.
At first I thought his job was fun,
But changed my mind when came the year
He worked the job as a volunteer.
Filed under Poems
I saw a priceless piece of art
Hanging on your wall.
I dug a slit beneath it
Into which it could fall.
I shook the house forcefully
With a wrecking ball,
And now to find the painting,
Through rubble I must crawl.
It seemed a good idea
For thieving at the time.
Your house was so unguarded
And perfect for a crime,
And the painting was so beautiful
It’d sell for quite a dime.
Alas, my plan was vetted
By an unreliable mime.
So because of my planner’s silence
I made a lot if noise
With the pretense of stealing
Your super pretty toys.
I hope I’ll find a better partner
Among the orange-jumpsuited boys.
Ah, the art of heisting
And all its simple joys.
Filed under Poems
I went to my doctor
With a terrible cold,
A product of
My getting old.
He told me to take
Two aspirins or so,
Then gave me a bill
And bade me to go.
And now I’m in prison
For acting immorally.
I took aspirin from the store
When the doctor meant orally.
Filed under Poems
A monocle, a violin,
A fancy tailcoat.
I held a tray the British way
And never did I gloat.
A ball and chain, a little cot,
A fancy jumpsuit too.
Everyone thinks I’m guilty,
And I bet that you do too.
So now I’m serving “Chef’s Surprise”
In the prisoners’ cafe.
And with each bow I think of how
To escape, the British way.
Filed under Poems
We triumph over evil
And restore justice all day,
Yet evil and injustice
Never go away.
So I’ve become convinced
By the style of all these crooks
That someone’s sponsoring evil
In order to sell more books.
The jolly roger flails
In the stormy winter breeze
Above a deck of scalawags
Afloat upon the seas.
The crew is cruel and vile,
Culled from horrors of the night,
Which would be very normal
If their captain weren’t polite.
He’ll pull aside a merchant ship.
His cannons towards it swivel.
He shouts, “Please share your vittles
“So we may all be civil.”
Perhaps his victims do suspect
He’s playing with their minds,
But his motto is “Just be yourself
“And the looting works out fine.”
Filed under Poems
My yearly birthday ritual
Is something to behold,
Though it’s tasteless and repugnant
I am very often told.
I start the day by flossing
For the first time in a year
For you are just what you eat
And the data’s all right here.
Then I right down my wishes
And goals for the coming year
Which flow so much more smoothly
After a quart or two of beer.
Then I take a nap
On the floor beside my couch
After which I try to do some squats
That end up as a slouch.
Then I might contact all my friends
And tell them of their flaws
Or drive to the police station
And break some petty laws,
And as no one posts my bail
Thus ends my birthday drill.
Now the year’s worst day is over.
From now on it’s all uphill.
Filed under Poems
I was a thief
In ancient times
When the punishments
Fit the crimes.
I finally was caught
Making ransom demands
And a guy with an ax
Chopped off my hands.
It hurt in the moment,
And my stumps were quite sore,
But I don’t have to worry
About caught red-handed anymore.
Even better than that
Was going to my patents’s place
And saying “look ma, no hands!”
Ah, the look on her face.
Filed under Poems
The trees turn gold,
The leaves turn orange.
A girl named Autumn
Walks through fields of cornge.
Her shoes are brown.
Her dress is silver.
She is planning a burglary.
She expects to pilfer.
She breaks into a farmhouse,
The queen of thieves.
She takes many treasures,
Then Autumn leaves.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 