There once was a fellow name Mao
And nobody’s quite certain how
Without any trepidation
He subverted expectation
And that’s how you Hollywood now.
There once was a fellow name Mao
And nobody’s quite certain how
Without any trepidation
He subverted expectation
And that’s how you Hollywood now.
Filed under Poems
Fresh cut french fries,
Lavender breeze,
Dusty sweat after a ballgame,
The salt of the seas,
Lime, peaches, and sunflowers,
Grandma’s garlic spaghetti:
Yet you decided to spritz on
“Testosterone Yeti.”
Filed under Poems
One of the problems with globalism
Is that some Scandinavian guy named Anders
Is going to meet a muslim guy named Salaam
And a third party will greet them both
By shouting “Salaam, Anders!”
And some guy terrified of reptiles
Will sue for emotional damages.
Filed under Poems
I’m still sick after 96 hours,
Plentiful pills, and hot, steamy showers.
I feel lousy, and still poems I write
So give me some pity likes! And with that, good night.
Filed under Poems
They have hot dogs; they have buns.
They have lunch meat; they have pancakes.
The equivalence I want to know:
What sort of meat a pair with waffles makes.
Filed under Poems
If I had a chicken
Made of a golden laser beam
I’d think the Altoids that I bought
Were not as they would seem…
Filed under Poems
A giant electric windmill met Sisyphus
And asked, “Do you like music, man?”
Sisyphus said, “Anything but rock and roll.”
The turbine said, “I’m a big metal fan.”
Filed under Poems
Doowop, doowop.
Doowop bebop shadooby.
Wicky-wicky, chicka-chicka,
Doowoppa scooby dooby.
Boobop, baddop,
Badoppawop pizazz!
If you think this poem’s stupid
Then you REALLY must hate jazz.
Filed under Poems
I think African people
Should name more children “Enad”
‘Cause then people would ask
“Where’s your kid?”
And then Enad would walk in
And people would say “Hi Enad”
And the parents would get upset
Because they think their kid got hyena’d
But then they’d realize the irony
And laugh
And laugh
And laugh some more
Because they were the real hyenas all along.
Filed under Poems
A fantasy author was getting tired
Of calling things dragons, and so he hired
A marketing guru and said “Hey, it’s lame
“That all of these dragons have the same name!”
So the marketing guru sat down and thought
That people didn’t use “Y” quite a lot,
So he proposed the namesWyvern and Wyrm
And both those became an acceptable term.
Alas, Mr. writer will probably live
Long enough for his stories to give
The inevitable climax, the ultimate sin:
A book where the monster is spelled as “Dragyn”.
Filed under Poems