Another year, another home,
Another colored paper.
I’m not abused, merely unused;
A melancholy caper.
I’m passed around from town to town,
Each owner feigning cheer
To unwrap me with family
Each and every year.
I may have been a bestseller
That’s long since been forgotten
Or a perfume or a candle
That smells like something rotten,
A gidget, doodad, souvenir,
Or other miscellaneous crap.
I’m the gift you keep on giving.
See you next year! That’s a wrap.
Filed under Poems
So I was just a year past ageless
And I wanted lamb for dinner
So I demanded a sacrifice
From some now-nameless sinner.
Now every year since the dawn of man
They sacrifice more sheep.
Can’t you sacrifice a salad once?
Or maybe a marshmallow peep?
Filed under Poems
“What do you want for your birthday?”
So many have asked this of me,
Yet I still have zero doomsday devices
And seventy-two graphic tees…
Filed under Poems
She asked me for a diamond necklace.
I gave her a diamond whose shoulders touch its head.
She asked me for a diamond necklace
But I gave her a diamond neckless instead.
Filed under Poems
I gave someone a gift
Of pigeons sitting on a rock.
When they asked why I told them:
“I don’t give a flying flock.”
Filed under Poems
Whether getting or giving,
As long as you’re living,
No matter how epic the thrift
It will always be true…
(Just between me and you)
Life insurance is a bad birthday gift.
Filed under Poems
We met online at 12:00 AM
And bonded over cats.
We bared our souls with smileys
And confirmed the predictions of anonymous stats.
We texted back and forth a bit
Before we met in real life.
You thought I was kinda cute.
I knew you’d be my wife.
But as the days and weeks went by
Our love was less smooth than I was hopin’.
You kept some of the gifts I sent you
But the boxes of dead rodents, you didn’t open!
So now I’m naked, watching Louie
On Amazon TV
Regretting how your heart did not
Know how much that cat-bonding meant to me.
Filed under Poems
Sometimes its hard
To find gifts for a friend,
But this week I stumbled
On the be all and end.
I’ve a friend with a fetish
For girls who’ve petite,
Dainty, smooth, delicate,
And sensual feet.
I bought him a 35-inch
Yardstick, which I think is neat
Because he will enjoy
The three unusually-small feet.
Filed under Poems
Goats don’t make good rolling pins:
That’s how this recipe begins.
They kick and spit and stomp and bray
But my cookies taste fine anyway.
Filed under Poems
‘Twas two days before Christmas
And off at the mall
Were all of the husbands
Who dropped the gift ball.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 