Cinderella is the tale
Of a peasant girl named Ella
Who, by being the only nice girl in the world,
Snares the heart of her fella.
Some say we’d all be Cinderella
If the world were entirely jerks
Yet I haven’t met many princesses
So I don’t think that’s how the world works.
Fate, ye tempting mountebank,
Whether spurious or not,
Can prove to be, to our free will,
A specious asymptote.
Cuts our time; We must defer.
My mom paid me a dollar
To write this poem, so blame her.
Today I slept in until 9:00
And felt amazingly fine.
All good things must pass
For I must wake at 8:59
They say a woman joked
Telling her husband, “I got your nose!”
Within an hour the fire was stoked…
Once upon a time
There was a tiny little rock
Who was the world’s preeminent scholar
On the early works of Bach.
The little rock was erudite
Yet its career went South
On account of probably white people
And, also, its lack of mouth.
Once upon a time
A woman majored in STEM
And made millions teaching women
The ways that men were bad to them.
She could have been an engineer
And done science and stuff
But instead she told the patriarchs
She wasn’t paid enough.
I close my eyes, remembering
The day we almost met.
You were taking Cynthia
(Your puppy) to the vet.
You were glowing beautifully,
A tear drop in your eye,
And I was in my plain white van,
My third time driving by.
I almost parked, almost went in,
Almost told you my name
But I kept on making four right turns
And keeping things the same.
Sometimes I close my eyes and think
Of how we might have been
But it’s best for both of us if I,
For now, remain unseen.
My car may have it’s share of dings,
I may not buy you fancy things,
I might forget your name a lot,
I might comment “Your mom is hot,”
I might not read your favorite book,
I’ll seldom clean and never cook,
But if you become my wife
You can wear sweat pants for the rest of your life!