Some people pour milk in their coffee.
Some people pour milk in their tea.
This morning I mixed up the orange juice and milk.
It was as you’d expect it to be.
Tag Archives: Mistakes
Maybe It Tasted Good A Few Years Ago?
I want a sandwich
With clams, beets, and garlic
Sprinkled with liver and thyme
Topped with two scoops
Of pistachio ice cream
And the zest of a two-week-old lime
All smeared on a loaf
Of gluten-free flatbread
Served on a hard rubber plate.
You get it when you order
A nice BLT.
I call it “The Internet Date.”
Filed under Poems
A Little-Known Side Benefit Of Stairs
Somewhere between the lobby
And my destination floor
The elevator chose
Not to move up anymore.
Perhaps the lift malfunctioned
When the console met my fists
But hey, no more classic rock
With jazzy little twists!
Filed under Poems
51% And Growing
What if, with perfect certainty, you knew how to be good. You
Would have no ills or evils. With this great power would you
Live your life accordingly, an angel we’d admire,
Or is flawless, certain perfection a goal to which you’d not aspire?
Now if perfection weren’t certain and ’twas painful to act well
Would you trade your Earthly pleasure for 50/50 odds of Hell?
Would you suffer every moment if it might bring future joy
Or would you say “be happy now” and make pleasure your toy?
The point that I am making is in our uncertain years
Where our good or evil instincts are affected by our fears
That we might be a villain who believes that we are just
Or perhaps a clumsy angel whose good intent is all a bust.
If you’d be truly evil or would be extremely good
Then here’s a course of action that to take I think you should:
To seek a path of certainty. Through thinking you will find
More often the results you seek are those which you will find
And if another does you wrong seek not to cast your blame
But know that if you thought like him you’d probably do the same.
Hero, villain, victim are alike a future you
So why not think and weight the coin that judges all we do?
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
The Flavor Of “Winning”
For a moment I sat there
With blood on my hands
Smearing life on my white-bread toast
In a room all alone
With inanimate friends
In a halfway house built for a ghost.
My Ferrari was mired
In a 90-hour week
When I needed just 12 to survive
But I’d long since stopped living
For the privilege of being
Among the elite few who can thrive.
The child in the basement
Was calling for daddy
‘Til its fat little throat had gone raw
And yet I was too busy
Helping others to join me
To notice my life had a flaw.
But if I’d payed attention,
Tasted a tomato
Or felt a moth land in my hair,
Just walked outside barefoot
Or put salt in my coffee
I’d realize somehow I still care.
I care about family.
I care about freedom.
I don’t need this bottle and pill.
And maybe that baby
Will say “taste the tomato”
And if I haven’t yet died then I will.
Filed under Poems
Adventures In Milk Purchasing
I am a human
Who lives in a place
Where food can be purchased to eat.
Some take that for granted,
Some think it’s a nuisance,
And I think it’s pretty darn neat.
But sometimes I wonder
About fellow shoppers
Who bought before I came along.
I used to think fondly
Of my fellow humans*
But now I have proof I was wrong.
*This is a lie, but the photo is real
This One’s For All The First Graders (And Middle Schoolers)
There are things I’ll never knew
‘Cause I’ll will not have eating glue
But since I eated it I confess
This poem’s grammars has not make sense.
Filed under Poems
So Basically Tide Pods, Right?
If you’ve always dreamed of fame
But the dream never came to fruition
I have a helpful tidbit
From yours truly’s intuition:
Drink a bunch of chemicals
Then pretend you have the flu
And with any luck some doctor
Will name a condition after you!
Filed under Poems
And With That Hair I’m Destined For National Leadership
If I were a Pokemon
I’d want to be Crabominable
Because no one would enslave me
And fight in a manner intolerable.
Yes, ugliness has benefits
When avoiding death is your aim.
And for you ’90s kids who say its fake:
You should play a more recent game.
Filed under Poems
Without My Mom You’d Still Be Pretending To Like Robert Frost
Today we thank our mothers,
The reason we’re alive,
The commuter jets of fetuses
That ensured to life we’d arrive.
And after our delivery
Their labors didn’t stop;
Our every cry reminded them
Of a long-ago hop-on-Pop.
They spent many sleepless hours
Changing diapers, wiping tears,
Just for us to becomes teenagers
All full of angst and sneers.
But two moms we thank today
Whose children are divine.
One is the virgin Mary
And the other mom is mine.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 