I am a person made of bronze,
Carved from orangish metal.
My body looks so human
But I’m closer to a kettle.
I’ll never move, I’ll never speak,
I’ll never love or feel.
I’ll never be a human,
But I’m absolutely real.
I’ll never learn of math or art.
I’ll never know a fact.
I’ll have no skills in anything,
So I guess I’ll have to act.
My body’s perfect, ageless, strong
Although I can’t be dumber
And thus I’ve come to Hollywood,
Renamed “The Up-And-Comer.”
Filed under Poems
Life is like a box of chocolates:
It costs money and makes you fat.
Most people enjoy it as it kills them slowly.
Yeah, life’s a lot like that.
But it doesn’t have to be:
We can smile and and act as equals
Starting with something on which we all agree,
Specifically that most movies don’t need sequels.
Filed under Poems
My quest to write one poem a day
Can really be looked at in this way:
Once per day I really need
One good idea as a seed,
And yet I crank out poems like this,
And some will hit while others miss.
Then I look at Hollywood
And my ideas seem pretty good.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
I haven’t seen
“Twelve Years a Slave,”
Though I’ve lived the story
In my own ways.
For eleven years
And eleven days
I labored in fields,
Harvesting hays.
But I guess they’ve no interest
In a dude
Who did eleven years
Of indentured servitude.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 