‘Twas deep in the evening,
Way the heck into night.
Unlit things were dark
And dark things weren’t light.
It was nothing like morning,
Like super late afternoon,
And she’s talked like this all evening
And I hope this date ends soon.
‘Twas deep in the evening,
Way the heck into night.
Unlit things were dark
And dark things weren’t light.
It was nothing like morning,
Like super late afternoon,
And she’s talked like this all evening
And I hope this date ends soon.
Filed under Poems
In a very distant city
In some un-noteworthy land
There stood a shabby little shack
Which housed the one all-knowing man.
The man was very happy
Because he knew how to be so,
Yet he had a common problem
And away it would not go.
The problem he experienced
Was, despite his knowing all
The people who surrounded him
Would never heed his call.
A wolf would eat a neighbor,
A child would lose its way;
To the second he’d predict these
Yet the man still had no say.
He knew of no solution
And, knowing all, he knew no hope
So he lived a life of nothing
As a shack-dwelling all-knowing dope.
Yet the answer to his problems
Had been with him all along.
‘Twas the one thing he could not accept…
That, maybe, he was wrong.
Filed under Poems
Once a year we celebrate
The gruesome and bizarre,
The stuff that gives clowns nightmares
And makes wolves hide under cars.
We make light of the horrific,
Let go the values we hold dear…
We call this celebration “tax day”
And it’ll come in half a year.
Filed under Poems
I respect dumbells.
They have a valuable job.
By lifting them up we grow stronger
Faster than eating corn on the cob.
I don’t respect bad drivers
And people from Northeastern states*.
I suggest we rename them “dumbells”
And call dumbells “single-hand weights.”
Filed under Poems
Today my only meal
Was half a can of sour grapes,
Fortified by some shampoo
And a bit of rattlesnake.
I would’ve snapped a photo
But I figure no one’d look…
This could’ve been avoided
If you’d only bought my book!
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
I wrote a poem about breaking up
Though I’m happily single.
I wrote a poem about parties
Though I seldom even mingle.
I wrote one about prison
Though I’m offended by “darn.”
I write one about dead soldiers
Though I’m home, both safe and warm.
Each one I halfway finished
Then deleted with a click
Because my life is so darn easy
I’d come off looking like a dick.
Sorry for the language.
I guess I got unhinged.
No more poetry for me
After a punk-rock Youtube binge!
Filed under Poems
Sitting on a bus
Waiting to go home.
I don’t feel creative at all.
The driver is gone.
If this moment were art
It’d be the plain red stripe on a hotel wall.
Dogs are pretty.
Pretties are not always dogs.
If you thought you’d be happy
With this poem’s conclusion
Reread the first two lines.
Sleepwalking,
Night stalking…
Insomnia is killing me.
Dead of night,
I feel no fright.
Just a few more hours ’til I’m free.
With empty hearts
And bulging carts
They leave my shelves so very bare.
Their hands are deep
In all that’s cheap.
At these poor beasts I stare.
All these hours
Living in a haze
Just a few more days
On the night shift.
I waste my life
Repeating strife,
Putting boxes back on the shelves.
My peers and I
Just want to cry,
Go home and be all by ourselves.
I ain’t got paid,
But I’ve quit and stayed.
Oh! How that paycheck calls…
I say I’ll walk,
But it’s all talk.
I haven’t got the balls.
All these hours
Hoping its a phase.
Counting down the days
On the night shift.
Then in an instant
I hear the TV:
“Todays winning numbers are
“7, 6, 5, 4, 3.”
Thirty-eight million dollars
Are mine! All mine! Then…
My boss yells “you’re fired
“If you doze off again.”
All these hours
And finally an excuse…
No need for such abuse…
Time to take another snooze…
On the night shift.