Tag Archives: Cynical

Why Cops Love Summer

The twinkling stream

In sea-foam green

Was strolling o’er the rocks

And on the sand

A merry band

Were clothed in naught but socks.

They danced about,

Let it all hang out,

Just happy to be young,

Especially he,

Who’s six-foot-three

And very amply-hung.

Their harmless fun

Had hurt no one

But the cops lacked any pity:

“This here stream,

“Rural as it may seem,

“Is legally still the city.”

The cops gave out

With an air of clout

Citations to the nudists.

They seemed unstressed

As they got dressed

As if they all were buddhists.

Now clothed, the band

Heeded police demand.

It’s true! I checked on Snopes.

Unclothed, unarmed

They went home unharmed,

So black folks: there’s still hope!

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Autumn in Detroit

Autumn in Detroit:

The trees are red each golden morning,

Crisp as dollar bills

That you stole from someone’s car.

Then comes Autumn’s rain

And the colors turn to gray December,

Dark and full of pain

Like that out-of-business bar.

The snow is heavy, cold

And almost covers the graffiti.

Unmelting, it turns gray

Like the prison window’s tint.

And as you bundle up

In your tick-infested cotton blanket

You smile and thank the Lord

That you do not live in Flint.

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Pre-Apocalypse

We haven’t had apocalypse yet

In this world in which we thrive.

We don’t fear the undead

For we are the un-alive.

We don’t need no fallout

To keep us inside all day long

And everyone is perfect

Except the half of us who’re wrong.

Food is not a luxury

(Except for homeless folks)

And only half our news today

Is a cruel, ignoble hoax.

So I hope you feel safe

As you stroll a corpseless street

Because, while life is kinda hard,

You aren’t yet a zombie’s treat

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I Have A Dream That I Can Hate A**holes Of Any Color Without Being Vilified

You’re unhygienic,

Ill-tempered and mean.

You’re perhaps the worst tipper

That I’ve ever seen.

Your humor is childish.

Your language is coarse.

You’ve the breath of a dog

And the face of a horse.

You burned down my house,

Ran away with my wife,

Destroyed everything happy

I had in my life.

You’ve made far more enemies

Than you’ve made amends

But I’m white and you’re black

So I’ll say that we’re friends.

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How To Hedge Your Bets

If you’re a divorce lawyer

Being polygamous is wise

‘Cause you’ll get a lot of business

And you’re already good with lies.

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No Mrs. Brown, Carston Is Not An Angel

If you have offspring

And they are not Satan’s toys

Then you don’t know your kids

(Or you children aren’t boys).

If the latter is true

Well, it gets better dude!

If your children are girls…

I’m sorry, you’re screwed.

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Thanks, Arbitrary Statistics!

A minute with me

Is an hour in Heaven,

But no woman will know

‘Cause I’m five-foot-eleven.

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Plenty of Fish

He stood on the granite cliff

Screaming hoarsely

Over the roaring black ocean.

From one of the shores beyond

An echo returned to him:

“Citygal17498 has blocked you.”

But mostly there was silence.

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Oligarchy Elementary Is Accepting New Students

I beg your pardon

For I mean to yap at thee

My case for nonconsensual

Reallocation of apathy,

For were we to allow

Our youth to expand

Their range of beliefs

We’d soon lose command

Of the best and the brightest

And the dullards alike.

Though the latter don’t argue

The former’d take a hike

And should free-thinkers see

All the ways we have lied…

Well, that is a notion

We must not abide.

Thus we must imprison

(At least to an extent)

Those who’ve not yet reached

The age of consent

And proceed to tell them

Facts they will ignore

To distract from the world

That they long to explore.

We’ll teach them arithmetic,

Reading, and writing

But most of all that

There is no need for fighting

For if each one resisted

Each oppressive foe

Then our script would be flipped

We, the high, become low.

Thus state education

In all things miscellaneous

Shall ensure that our underlings

Are not extemporaneous.

Thus closes my pitch

For public education.

We overlords live

Thanks to school’s misdirection.

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Sarsaparilla Is Southern After All…

I opened a bottle of root beer

And smiled at the sweetness and fizz.

You probably don’t think that sounds racist

But I’m white, so it probably is.

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