As you read this poem
You may look upon your clock
And see either the morning’s tic
Or else the evening’s tock.
I have advice to share with you
Be it the eve or morning;
First for my evening readers, I
Do share this somber warning:
For those whose work and leisure lasts
‘Til late at night like me
You run the risk of starting a blog
Of petty poetry.
But for the morning readers
Perhaps you’ll ponder thus:
How have you time to read crap
Writ by evening folk like us?
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I have to go to bed soon
And wake up before quarter-to-noon
And then drive my car
And not get a gold star
And I can’t even watch a cartoon!
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Snap crackle pop
Is the sound you hear
When you pour rice crispies
And have some fun.
Snap crackle pop
May also appear
When the mouse trap makes
Your husbandly duties done.
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She was skinnier than the toilet paper
They gave me in the slammer.
Her favorite flavor of potato chip
Was probably “Arm and Hammer.”
She weighs 90 pounds in flip-flops
And half as much without
And her hair was like the love child
Of silly string and sauerkraut.
When I picked her up at 7:00
I mistook her for her Pomeranian.
Turns out she was trilingual:
English, Klingon, and Albanian.
We went to see a movie:
“Alvin the Chipmunk meets Baby Shark.”
I’m not saying I’m desperate
But I think I felt a spark!
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“My tummy hurts.
My throat is sore.
I don’t want to go school no more.“
“My soul is charred.
My dreams are dead.
Take an aspirin and go to bed.”
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I played D&D tonight
And we had an epic fight.
Now this nerd must rest his head
Because it’s past his time for bed.
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Just time
No space
I wait
I pace
Feel stuck
Lack grace
Hands sweat
Hearts race
Then I hear
And I see
There is light
I am free!
Break the lock
Lose the key
I was that
Now I’m me.
Walking forward
Trying to run
Out of the tomb
Into the sun
Losing all my chains
Shedding my orange jumpsuit
Body free of all my pains
I am a vine grown from a root
What do I have left to do
Now that I am set free
Will I look for you
Or look for me
In the sunlight
Who will I be
Am I alright
Is this good
Who am I
I’m a bird
Can I fly
Hands sweat
Feet walk
Eyes wide
Tongues talk
Girls run
Boys chase
Same time
New space
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To buy a shiny dump truck toy;
The dream of every little boy.
A loud and topless red machine;
The dream of every male teen.
A pickup and a minivan;
A father, yes, but still a man.
A growling beaut older than he;
A man who can no longer see.
An environmentally friendly car;
Wait, f*** that s***! You’ve gone too far!
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I found world peace on Amazon
For $15.99.
It promised a world without conflict
Where everyone feels fine,
Without racism, bigotry,
Or hate of any type
And it had all five-star reviews
That said “It’s worth the hype!”
I put it in my shopping cart
And then, with horror, saw
They charged $10 bucks for shipping
So instead I bought martial law.
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Today’s my lady’s birthday
(And this time it’s not my mom).
She’s redheaded and pretty
And I think she is the bomb.
She kicks my butt at Mario Kart
And grabs my butt covertly
And when anybody speaks ill of her
I tell them off quite curtly.
She’s 25 years old today
And full of fun and grace
And I’m going to feed her lots of sugar
And kiss her adorable face
And then, dear reader, after dark
We’ll do our favorite things. An
Act of love and passion
By which I mean play Wingspan.
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The Daily Travesty 