Learning CPR
To kiss choking folks for free
Still beats dating apps.
Tag Archives: Online Dating
I Can Call Him Black, But If He Says It Back That Misogy-tea
I’m a little teapot, short and stout.
I’m looking for a kettle six-foot or thereabout
Who makes a hefty salary, and when I shout
He wins me over and takes me out.
Filed under Poems
Why Won’t He Wife Me?
Everybody tells me that he’s poison
And is blood is made of boiling gasoline.
He’s never loved anybody more than himself
And he’s a barrel-chested killing machine.
He eats a baby bunny for his breakfast.
He’s got Bambi’s mommy mounted on the wall.
He’s a runner and a gunner and a scoundrel
And like OMG, I hope he’s six feet tall!
Filed under Poems
Yet Another Tinder Success
She was skinnier than the toilet paper
They gave me in the slammer.
Her favorite flavor of potato chip
Was probably “Arm and Hammer.”
She weighs 90 pounds in flip-flops
And half as much without
And her hair was like the love child
Of silly string and sauerkraut.
When I picked her up at 7:00
I mistook her for her Pomeranian.
Turns out she was trilingual:
English, Klingon, and Albanian.
We went to see a movie:
“Alvin the Chipmunk meets Baby Shark.”
I’m not saying I’m desperate
But I think I felt a spark!
Filed under Poems
A Universal Truth
There are more stars in the sky
Than grains of sand on Earth,
But none we know of have life
For whatever that is worth.
This tells me that on Earth
Is just like in heaven:
Life doesn’t like solar systems
Under five-foot-eleven.
Filed under Poems
Sophie’s Choice
Sophie was an average girl
With fairly average likes;
Fond of wine and dogs and soap
And mental health and hikes.
One day she was kidnapped
By a disembodied voice
Who told her she would surely die
Unless she made the choice:
Would she rather kiss someone
Who smelled liked a catcher’s mitt
That had been soaked in sour milk
And armadillo spit
While treading water in a pool
Of acid, hot as Hades
And listening to Kenny G
Play highlights of the eighties
While the Devil lit a match
And burned off all her hair…
Or, when asked where she’d like to eat
To not say “I don’t care.”
Filed under Poems
Sparks Will Fly!
I don’t know that it’s a good idea
To have an online dating site
For wrestlers and martial artists
Who like to both travel and fight.
The clientele might be a limited bunch
But the site’s name would have such aplomb:
I for one would sign up at once
For StrikeAnywhereMatch.com
Filed under Poems
It’s Almost Like People Are Frustrated And Indifferent For Some Reason…
Anyone remember
When a conversation meant
You tell your partner what you like
And everywhere you went,
Your hopes and dreams and fantasies
And they reply with “K”?
You don’t, which makes me wonder
How we got to this today.
Filed under Poems
One More Try (Guess Who Went To A Bluegrass Show Tonight?)
I was raised out in the country
A couple miles past “out in the sticks”
And I’ve got that country talent
For meetin’ just the most unfaithful chicks;
The Jezebels and the Delilahs,
The ones who’ll love you ‘til the dawn
But when I’m done cookin’ ‘em breakfast
It’s an empty bed, and oh! My wallet’s gone!
Woe is me! Woe is I! Woah, I think I caught her eye…
What’s the harm in making one more try?
Well I’ve tried bein’ a nice guy,
Bein’ bad, and bein’ cool,
But the role I’m best at playin’
Has gotta be the damned romantic fool.
Well I keep a few reminders
Of them in my rogue’s gallery.
If I’d a dollar for each trinket
I could pay a politician’s salary.
Woe is me! Woe is I! Woke up, so I didn’t die.
What’s the harm in making one more try?
Well they’ve got these handy programs
Where women on the worldwide web‘ll
Write about how they love laughter,
Tasty food, travel, hiking, and a rebel.
Seems a shame they’d waste their effort
Fielding mail from some desperate guy
When here I am, arms and heart open
And when it ends she’ll never cry.
Woe is me! Woe is I! Woman please just hit “reply.”
What’s the harm in making one more try?
Sure, when all is done and finished
Her ego’s big and mine’s diminished,
But I keep making one more try…
A Promising Start
Marjorie Jean was a mysterious queen
Who brought me to a miniature land
Where pain and fear did disappear
But not a bit was bland.
She took me out on a walkabout
For a sandwich of significant size
Then we’d settle in as the games begin
Until the evening had sealed our eyes.
But the morning sun said “you’re not done”
And two cats were fondled and fed
Before M and I walked with Mr. Blue Sky
To the land where the sharks go to bed.
A party of two then suddenly grew
And so did the Marjories double.
This new, larger band celebrated as planned
With all of the expected trouble.
And so fed, I turned with my face and neck burned,
And sped off in a car doused in Axe.
One day I’ll be seen back with Marjorie Jean,
And until that day two hearts relax.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 