If I had breath like Godzilla
And my sneeze were a nuclear blast
I still wouldn’t like playing kickball
But at least I’d get picked before last.
If I had breath like Godzilla
And my sneeze were a nuclear blast
I still wouldn’t like playing kickball
But at least I’d get picked before last.
Filed under Poems
My girl said “[Name]
“You can watch the game.”
Now I’m watching men skate
And good poems can wait.
Filed under Poems
Today’s the day that giant men
Who some describe as “ballers”
Get called by teams of athletes
To play games for millions of dollars
And older guys who used to play
And that one blonde chick enumerate
The reason why that particular guy
Will make their newfound team great.
Meanwhile, men who’re five-foot-two
But also weigh 300 pounds
Sit in bars and pound their chests
And buy each other rounds.
And somehow through the fog
Of testosterone and concealed erections
This moment matters more to most
Than national elections.
Filed under Poems
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.
Filed under Poems
Fresh cut french fries,
Lavender breeze,
Dusty sweat after a ballgame,
The salt of the seas,
Lime, peaches, and sunflowers,
Grandma’s garlic spaghetti:
Yet you decided to spritz on
“Testosterone Yeti.”
Filed under Poems
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!
Filed under Poems
Hush little baby! Don’t you cry
Or I’ll play you an elephant lullaby
And all that trumpeting hurts your ears
And sure, maybe daddy’s had one too many beers…
Filed under Poems
You couldn’t love a gambling man,
A pal who plays the odds,
Who shakes the dice and throws a wrench
In the plans of man and Gods.
You said you’d never take a chance
On a poker-faced son
But I’d bet if you took a chance
You’d find me pretty fun.
You used to ace your math exams.
You were the queen of school
But the odds weren’t in your favor
With Jack, the king of cool.
Jack would have told you “yes, of course”
If you asked him to dance
But no-go there! You didn’t dare
To take this simple chance.
So Jack’s bad luck’s my inside straight
So let me take the shot:
If you give me your hand of fate
You may just win a lot.
Filed under Poems
I walked down the rows
Of “Bed, Bath, and Beyond“
Smelling hand soaps with names
Like “Starlight” and “Palm Frond”.
Then I left to go back
To “Bob’s Soap Retailer”
Where they sell soap called “White”
And “Hope She Lets You Impale ‘Er”.
Filed under Poems