Tag Archives: Cynical

Taste Optional

I saw an advertisement

For a poetry group today

Inviting folks to “come and read

“A poem that stabs the heart,

Reveals a truth or sadness,

Or helps you shout hooray.”

I was not well received

By reading “Ode to a Fart.”

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Princess Fatigue

Ask any man “Would you marry?”

And the man will most-likely say “Sure.”

He’d wear a gold ring for the rest of his days

To announce his commitment to her.

Ask any girl “Would you marry?”

And she’ll smile and say “Yes” with glee.

“And he’d wear a gold ring for the rest of his days

“To announce his commitment to me!”

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More Deep Thoughts

Living a happy and comfortable life

Is like eating a lot of chocolate:

It makes you fat and kills you slowly

But it’s totally worth it.

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Today

He’s hiding in a cloud of dust,

Relearning how to never trust.

Her taillights shining in his eyes,

He doesn’t know just how it ended.

Her ears await the next catcall,

In jeans too tight and skin too small,

Praying to what she knows are lies

For the pleasure of being offended.

Both parties borrow from tomorrow

To hide from yesterday’s Pompeii.

They can’t forget about each other

So they settle to forget about today.

He held the door of the gilded cage

And didn’t understand her rage.

He thought he’d shown her chivalry

But she called it the living dead.

Her body language said “I’m cheap.”

She told him she was losing sleep.

He said “I’ll fix this. Hmm, let’s see,”

Then noticed she’d already fled.

They’re hiding from tomorrow’s sorrow

In yesterday’s hip hip hooray.

They hate but obey what they ought

And settle to forget about today.

They’re told by shadows high above

What they must think and say and love

Never asking if or why

Shadows live and love to lie.

They’d rather borrow from tomorrow

To pave the way for yesterday

But within them, on the highest shelves

Are two uncaged, unsullied selves

Whispering in voices clear

So only quiet minds can hear

The truth forbidden by the they:

No one ever lives beyond today.

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Nothing Says “Please Don’t Hit Me With The Cleaver Again” Like Flowers

My neighbor has a rose garden

That he’s tended all his life

Which really makes you wonder:

Just how angry is his wife?

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St. Patty’s Day

Today we drink and wear green clothes

And that’s just about it.

I hope I’ve helped to illustrate

Why this holiday is shit.

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Board Games In Baltimore

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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