When I discovered my gender-neutral parent
Was not my biological dad
I realized it was quite the faux pa.
Yes, this poem is bad.
Tag Archives: French
My Foray Into French Poetry (It’s a 12y)
When I went to France
I got a pet 4.
I 5 to my knees
And I gave it a pat.
I wanted to pet it
But was told to 6.
If you don’t know French numbers
You’ve had e9 of 10.
Filed under Poems
I’m Going To Say This Before Every Meal From Now On
Jesus was born in a manger
And in French “manger” means “to eat.”
I don’t know how that is relevant
But I still think it is neat.
Filed under Poems
Why The French Make Good High-Rollers
You may look real classy
In your souped-up chassis
And yet prove to be asses
When you read “chassis” as chasses.
Filed under Poems
Lady and the Tramp
She was a Sagittarius
Who played a Stradivarius.
I was a Virgo
Who played the trombone.
She spent her days
Reading music and plays
While I played Tetris
Beside my pet stone.
She was a sommelier,
Who perused cassoulet
And to whom piquant tinctures
Were je ne sais quois.
But down by the lake
I jumped out of her cake
And I’m pretty certain
That she noticed moi.
Filed under Poems
An American In Paris
When walking les rues de Paris
I see people looking at me.
They laugh, “hua hua hua!”
At je ne sais quoi
And, like any sane person, I flee.
Filed under Poems
