You tell me not to use a straw
Because somewhere in the sea
A turtle was killed by floating trash,
Perhaps produced by me.
And somewhere I imagine
In the ocean, deep and blue,
A turtle chokes on a straw and is grateful
To not be dating you.
Tag Archives: Cynical
“Santiago Must Die”
They said I could do anything
If I put my heart into it
But after 17 years in a mariachi metal band
A part of me says “screw it.”
Filed under Poems
An Actual Retirement Home On My Street
No matter how I’ve managed to sin
Since my life, long ago, did begin
Please forgive me enough
(Even take all my stuff),
Just don’t leave me at the Woodway Inn!
#RetiredPeopleDon’tDropSoap
Filed under Poems
No (AKA Why Is Pessimism Such An Ugly Word Anyway?)
If the floor weren’t made of lava
And society wasn’t Hell
And people were polite
And once in a while something went well
And I wasn’t disappointed
By the bills someone probably sent me
And my life wasn’t garbage
Would the glass still be half-empty?
Filed under Poems
What We Really Mean
Happy birthday Facebook friend!
This past year your life didn’t end.
You didn’t factor much into my life.
We’re only friends ’cause of my wife.
Filed under Poems
Free Vacation Anyone?
What comes up
Must come down
Except the human propensity
To find reasons to frown.
But on the moon
The proverb’s incorrect,
So send the easily offended to the moon!
Does anyone object?
Filed under Poems
Why I Love Football
This month we will experience
The NFL’s preseason
In which millionaires hit each other
Deapite the lack of any reason,
And we the fans will cheer
To kick our team’s rival’s posterior
Because we can’t play ourselves
Since we’re genetically inferior.
We’ll sit and eat and fart a bit
And somehow manage to sweat.
At the end half of us will sob
While half say “best preseason yet!”
Then we picture our team’s victory
And order larger pants
With the logo of some other team
That actually has a chance.
Filed under Poems
Downside? Nazi Riots. Upside? Easy Day For Bad Poetry.
Everyday I seek to write
A really lousy poem
Where life is hard and then the good guys lose,
But today I can be lazy
And write this poem instead
‘Cause my narrative is just Virginia’s news.
Filed under Poems
Logic, American Dream Style
Monday through Friday
My heart’s only dread
Is that midmorning song
That says “get out of bed.”
Yet come days of Satur
And as well days of Sun
My heart sings in the morning
‘Til the day is all done.
For when clocks of alarm
Cracks serenity’s hold
And says “put on your clothes
“And go do what you’re told”
My vigor and pep
Aren’t what they used to be
Like when I was a child
And still blissfully free.
When instead of alarms
To the sun I awaken
And instead of my job
I get pancakes and bacon
My bliss flows more freely
And I feel stronger.
From now on I’ll work weekends
And be miserable longer.
Filed under Poems
Support For The 58* Genders?
If you’ve got a gender
And that gender is Agender
Than an Agender gender
Is the gender that you’ve got,
But if you think non-cis is nonsense
And you don’t buy into bi
Then things which you are thinking
May be different than you thought.
There’s a rift between androgyny,
Pangender folks, and the FTM.
You may think that there’s no difference
Between trans-males and trans-men,
Or that trans-ness is divided
Down the trans-two-gender line
When in fact the trans-varieties
Number nearly twenty-nine!
If your creed denies this credence
You’ll be supported a few more years,
But if the “miss” in “miscelaneous”
Offends you, have no fears;
If you identify as other
But don’t like “other” as your name
Then nonconforming, variant, or non-binary
Are semi-synonyms for you to claim.
And if you want to carve your identity
In history’s hallowed halls
Invent your own custom gender now.
(May I suggest: No-balls?)
And make the list grow larger
Than the current 58
And you can show the establishment
That you don’t want America to again be great!
*Subject to change
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 