Sometimes when it’s peaceful
In the evening by the stream
I like to lie beside the bank
And oh-so-gently dream
That as the humans hunt the deer
The deer hunt us the same,
But humans never notice this
‘Cause deer have lousy aim.
Tag Archives: Hunting
Southern Love
Somewhere there’s a purple bear
Who cries itself to sleep.
The cubs call him “The purple one
“Who, when he’s sleepy, weeps.”
I want to find that purple bear
Upon one lonely night
And give him stuffed Teddy Roosevelt
And say, “It’ll be alright.”
The purple bear will thank me
As he dries his tears away
And hug the small plush human
And know that he’s okay.
I want to pat that little bear
Upon his purple head,
But I’m also scared he’ll maul me
So I’m hunting him instead.
Filed under Poems
Another Once-Great Species Ruined
There once was an African lion
Who was handsome and noble and clever.
He wanted his head to be put on a wall
So he could be admired forever.
Alas, some American vegans
Made a law that to hunt him was banned
So know he stays home in the evenings
And watches MGM films on demand.
Filed under Poems
Hunting, To Some
A little bird called me cheap
So I murdered it,
Not because it called me cheap
But because I’m an asshole.
Filed under Poems
Tundra Safari
As I was walking on the tundra
I came upon a moose.
I wanted to shoot it with my gundra
‘Til I saw it was wearing shoes.
So as it turned, a log I hid undera,
Hoping to avoid its mighty gaze.
Its footsteps were as loud as thundera,
But it didn’t see me through the haze.
I hid until the setting sundra
Passed behind the frozen ground.
I went home quickly. I was donedra,
And I hoped the shoe moose wasn’t around.
I remember that trip and all the fundra
I had on that permafrost.
And one day, back I’m sure to rundra
To bag the moose I lost.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 