Tag Archives: Dumb

Or You Mite Be Letting Siri Type Four Ewe

If you prey at a alter

And like you’re time their,

You watch the news and think

That how the world works isnt fare,

Youve misplaced yor resume

But will happily give you the jist

Than you might bee looking four jobs

Via a web sight like Craigslist.


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How Real Men Express Love

When we met I asked “Can I buy you a drink?”

When we left I asked “Your place or mine?”

When the mood was right I leaned in close

And asked “you sure this is fine?”

And so the night proceeded,

As again consent was had

For removing one sock, then the other, then a shirt,

Just to make sure no one felt bad.

And as I removed my underthings

(Consensually, and with heart)

I realized I hadn’t checked about my shoes

And suggested we restart.

She said she was ok with it

And told me “just whip it out!”

So I grabbed my legal contract

And she began to pout.

At this point I could see

She wasn’t happy, so we parted.

I was just happy to be safe.

She was broken hearted.

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On The Importance Of Proper Labeling

I hear the sound of fallen snow

Like the moment before applause,

The echo of previous silence,

A silent question’s pause.

My ears softly ring

From what’s no longer there.

And I silently sigh inside myself

And lie back in my chair.

Where once I was an emperor,

A man respected, feared,

For whom the wicked trembled

And for whom the righteous cheered,

Now I sit, a man alone,

Completed in rebirth.

In the silence now I tell myself

“I thought the other button nuked the Earth!”

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We Won’t Even Go Into The “Mom’s A Virgin” Thing

One of the beloved songs

Is titled “Silent Night,”

Of story of a night where all

Is calm and all is bright.

With the writer of the song

I want to have a chat.

A silent night where all is bright?

What kind of night is that?

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*With The Exception Of A Few (You Know Who You Are), This Was More A Matter Of Finding A Proper Rhyme Than Actual Disrespect

I respect dumbells.

They have a valuable job.

By lifting them up we grow stronger

Faster than eating corn on the cob.

I don’t respect bad drivers

And people from Northeastern states*.

I suggest we rename them “dumbells”

And call dumbells “single-hand weights.”

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Oh, Also I’m Sick

Sitting on a bus

Waiting to go home.

I don’t feel creative at all.

The driver is gone.

If this moment were art

It’d be the plain red stripe on a hotel wall.

Dogs are pretty.

Pretties are not always dogs.

If you thought you’d be happy

With this poem’s conclusion

Reread the first two lines.

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Not Really… #YOLO

Thirty-six hours in the hospital

And $17,000 dollars later

I regret my Halloween in Florida

And bobbing for that gator…

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