We could talk about the ego,
Super-ego, or the id
But I don’t think that does justice
To the amazing things Freud did.
Anyone can acknowledge
That people’s brains are weird,
Have a couch to lie on,
Or grow a snazzy beard,
But how many psychiatrists
Can also play guitar
Like Dr. Sigmund “Pink” Freud did?
That guy was quite a star!
Filed under Poems
You ask me how I got these cars.
I say “at the Chevy dealer.”
Then I realize you said “scars”
And I say “potato peeler.”
I now know two things very well:
I look like an evil clown
And local sales of Chevrolets
Are going to go way down.
Filed under Poems
“Hepatitis A
And Hepatitis B
Are differentiated by
The number of hours they study.”
Filed under Poems
Here eyes were like flowers
In April’s sweet bloom,
Like a tropical bird
Viewed through 8x digital zoom,
Like tiny galaxies
Filled by the purest of bliss.
This was a chance
Which I just couldn’t miss.
And so I approached her,
Her eyes locked with mine.
I said “Hi! I’m David.”
She said “I’m Caroline.”
I said “your eyes are wondrous.
“They belong in a museum!”
My court date’s this Friday
If you want to come see ’em.
Filed under Poems
They asked me “where’s the power plant?”
I pointed towards the woods
And they set out to find it
And claim its electric goods.
They asked me “where’s the power plant?”
And went off to the forest.
Now I picture them and laugh
‘Cause me they must abhorest.
They asked me “where’s the power plant?”
I pointed to the oaks,
The tow’ring cedar, stalwart maple,
Not intending it as a hoax.
They asked me “where’s the power plant?”
I pictured a mighty tree
Because a hundred feet of hardwood
Is a powerful plant to me.
I told my throat, in a way
That was very polite (so I thought)
That although it thought it’s work was satisfactory
Truthfully it was not.
I didn’t mean to hurt its feelings
As I tried to change its ways
But I guess I did ’cause now
My throat’s been sore for days.
Filed under Poems
You may be a man of means
Who’s healthy, wealthy, and wise. You
Sure may be a man of means
And if so I must despise you
For if you are a man of means
Your good luck clouds your head
For who would be a man of means
And not a man of nices instead?
Filed under Poems
I’m a very lucky guy!
I got word from the IRS…
They’re giving me an Audi!
A brand new car? Oh yes!
I met some illiterate mutes
Who knew how the universe works,
But they wouldn’t tell me or write it down.
What a bunch of jerks!
Filed under Poems
We were robbing a grocer.
I said “buy me some time.”
He went to the spices,
Then the express checkout line.
We landed in prison.
Our plans came unfurled.
Now all we’ve got left
Is all the thyme in the world.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 