Here eyes were like flowers
In April’s sweet bloom,
Like a tropical bird
Viewed through 8x digital zoom,
Like tiny galaxies
Filled by the purest of bliss.
This was a chance
Which I just couldn’t miss.
And so I approached her,
Her eyes locked with mine.
I said “Hi! I’m David.”
She said “I’m Caroline.”
I said “your eyes are wondrous.
“They belong in a museum!”
My court date’s this Friday
If you want to come see ’em.
Filed under Poems
I asked a skunk
“Are you a skunk?”
It didn’t answer me.
I asked a duck
To try my luck
But answer not did he.
I asked a bear
“Are you a bear?”
And at least I got an answer.
Sure, it killed me
In eight seconds.
On the bright side, hey! No cancer!
Filed under Poems
Little birds fly
And small children don’t.
Dogs obey loving masters
But small children won’t.
Whales jump on command
Through rings made of fire
But children would never
Do something so dire.
Small children are builders,
But so is an ant.
A fly can do everything
Small children can’t.
Pediatricians are pricey.
What’s cheaper are vets.
That’s why I shun children
In favor of pets.
Filed under Poems
Glorious, glorious, glorious mom!
You are the shizzow! You are da bomb!
Your presence brings comfort, just like forty winks.
Dad says “no pet dolphin’, but what does you thinks?
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
Nothing says “hypocrite”
Like a guy saying “hypocrite.”
Nothing says “hippo crit”
Like large, lucky mammals.
Nothing says “pachyderm”
Like an yderm salesman’s boss,
And I suppose also
Some verbose plucky camels.
Filed under Poems
Lucid wall of rusty bricks…
Placid bolt of melted meat…
Suit all made of candle wicks…
What the heck did I just eat?
Filed under Poems
It seems every woman I meet
Is a gold digger of sorts,
Or else too young to engage
As romantically-inclined cohorts.
I’m not the sort of man who’s oft
Accused or called a whiner
But for once I want to meet a gal
Who’s not a miner or a minor.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 