They say life is like a box of chocolates
But I think it’s more like a Chinese buffet:
You get to eat as much as you can manage
But if it’s chicken or a puppy, who can say?
Tag Archives: Life
The Great Reset
Sometime in 1988
We finished the political game
And now we’re playing as the final boss
And discovering the devs made him lame.
I move we return to the menu
And delete our saved data, restarting
At the level where we’re naked cave people
And we elect leaders by farting.
Filed under Poems
Apple: Because I Chose It When I Was 12 And It’s Too Late Now
For a few months my iPhone
Had eight hours of life between charges,
Then the next model released
And my phone bill suddenly enlarges.
Oh, an update to iOS x+1?
That sounds like an important step.
Did it drop my battery life by 20 percent?
Unsurprisingly, that’s a big “yep”.
“It’s ok”, says my telephone rep.
“You can upgrade today for free.
“You’ll just change your phone number
“And sign here in blood
“And pay for 69 months interest-free!”
And so, in a rage, I go shopping
For whatever Android people buy,
Then I remember how all my app data
Only works if my phone has an “i”
And I slink to my room where my charger
Sits happily waiting to go.
I’ll repeat this emotional process
Every year for a lifetime or so.
Filed under Poems
Almost Heaven, West Virginia?
There was an affordable city
That wasn’t all dirty and shitty.
Then it made the news
And earned plenty of views
And Californians are coming… a pity!
Filed under Poems
Before They Were Famous
He may seem like a regular guy
But there’s something you don’t know:
There’s a secret god of rock and roll
Inside this Average Joe.
He can make a room of peasants dance
And blow the roof off nightly
But he also has to pay the bills
To not appear unsightly.
He’s a part-time rockstar with a full-time job,
An overdriven ax and a name tag (“Bob”).
He’s bohemian, rhapsodic, and his stairway to heaven
Just happens to start at the 7/11.
So next time you go out to purchase a slurpee
Just know that the guy who you pay
Might just be the someone you blast as you’re driving,
A new-age Bon Jovi someday,
And know that berating him ‘cause your burrito
Is stale is annoying and wrong
And he’ll write down your name so when he finds fame
Your behavior will be a hit song.
Filed under Poems
I Feel Like This Will Age Well…
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.
Filed under Poems
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 Daily Travesty 