Today was a Monday.
It wasn’t a fun day,
Nor was it remarkably fateful.
Today was a Monday.
Now it’s a done day.
And for that I am certainly grateful.
Tag Archives: Life
This Was The Song That Like Literally Defined My Childhood, You Know?
My car
Your dad
His car
My bad
It’s just
A flesh wound
New paint?
I’m doomed!
I’m coming to terms with what I just did
‘Cause I’m just a punk music 2000’s kid!
Hey dude
We’re good
I’m white
But I say “hood”
I can’t
Sing well
That’s why
I yell
All the songs I sing sound like Green Day did
‘Cause that’s the dream of every punk 2000’s kid!
(Nana na na… nana na, na, nana nana na) x9
…2000’s kid!
Filed under Poems
Art History
In the beginning was pre-scarcity art
And the caves and the rocks were a’plenty.
Thrag asked “Mom, can I draw on the wall?”
She’d say “Sure, have a square foot or twenty.”
But as cavekids kept coming and new caves did not
The biggest of Thrags made a rule:
“You only draw pictures of how great I am
“Or I hit you with club ‘til you drool.“
Well the biggest of cavemen was one they called “God”
(Though it’s translated plenty of ways)
And for a few dozen eons all art was created
To offer him penance and praise.
Then one of those days God’s goons stopped beheading
And burning those who spoke their mind
And artists were arting about love and go-karting
And the God stuff got all left behind.
Well folks love their love (and, a bit less, their go-karts)
But artists got bored making beauty
So they started to mix, splatter, smear, scrape, and “other”
And their art got much less “bowl of fruit”y.
The people cried out “What’s this art all about?”
And the artists would pout and say “Feelings”
When really we know that the art status-quo
Was more about shady cash dealings.
And now we’ve arrived when the people are tired
Of listening to skilled people sing
And the artists are taught in the college of thought
That good art mustn’t mean anything.
So I, being me, full of whimsy and glee
Know you see that my own art is bad…
But my art’s about stuff, and today that’s enough
To make even my crap not so bad.
Filed under Poems
#PoetrySports
Today I ran a 5K race
And lost at pickleball
So my writing motivation
Is hovering around “none at all.”
Filed under Poems
There Once Was A Person From Right Here…
Tonight we play D&D
And pretend to not be me
And instead be a wizard
Who’s also a lizard
And does not write bad poetry.
Filed under Poems
The Little Things
You know when you’re eating the pasta
That’s shaped liked a little wheat shell
And they stick on your tongue while you eat them
And you feel like the whole world is well?
Or how ‘bout when you’re dehydrated
And your pee is all yellow and bright
And the pee-water gets kinda cloudy
And you flush and it all feels alright?
I like that just-popped-a-zit feeling
And that “earwax is washed away” calm.
It’s just me? That may be, but I’m hoping
You find your own commonplace balm.
Filed under Poems
You’ve Identified The Problem… What’s Your Solution?
If you call out “Woe is me”
Be assured that you are right,
For only you can cause the grief
Of thinking through the night,
Of worrying from dawn to dusk
Of things you’ve yet to do.
But if you choose to not be woe
You’re wise among the few.
Filed under Poems
Millennial Fantasies 2: The Great Reset
They’ve already invented a time machine.
I’m as sure of this as I’ve ever been.
The reason it isn’t a feature today
Is because all the time travelers went away
To a time when a house was only 10k
And your wife could stay home with a kid on the way,
When votes were counted, voices were heard,
There wasn’t a World War (let alone a third).
They traveled and traveled and stopped at a time
Where telling the truth wasn’t punished as crime.
I just hope when they stopped is an age that will last
And will be in our future instead of our past.
Filed under Poems
The Ants Go Marching
Do you recall what made you say
“There has to be another way”?
The moment when you burned yourself
Or windows fell and shattered?
Do you recall when you were scared
And learned that no one near you cared
And poured yourself some bottom-shelf
And figured out what mattered?
Remember when your throat was parched,
Your ankle turned, your body arched,
And when your dirty face cried out
The world put earbuds in?
If you recall, it’s time to be
A solo army, strong and free.
If you don’t, then have no doubt
These things will soon begin.
The world may not recall your name
Even if you win the game,
But when you count the victories
You get to choose your score.
So will you choose to recollect
A world of passive disconnect
Or will you solve the mysteries,
Wake up, and join the war?
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 