Apocalypse’s horsemen
Were riding home one night
When the BMW of depression
Passed them on the right.
“I think we’re now outdated,”
Said Famine to his peers
So they let the horses loose
And went out to get some beers.
The horses ran to far off lands
Where they could eternally play,
And some lucky Harley-Davidson salesman
Got four new customers today.
Filed under Poems
With nineteen seconds to play in the fourth
The Phantoms were down by five.
The quarterback was middle-aged
And wanted to feel alive.
He scanned for his receiver
But saw just a wall of men,
So he said a prayer. The ball hit air
And began a spiral spen.
Fat Jerry from the corner store
Leapt with a prayer of his own,
And might have caught that desperate pass,
But he thought he heard his phone.
And as the boal soared past his hands
To a song that hadn’t played,
He knew he’d lost the MVP
And he wasn’t getting laid.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 