So many Depends
On a red wheelbarrow,
Speckled with what we hope is rainwater
Beside the white chickens.
Tag Archives: Parody
Welcome to the Tundra
(A Parody of “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses)
Welcome to the Tundra.
We’ve got fun and games.
We’ve all got PhD’s, Honey
And we’re all named Frank or James.
One hour on Skype’s all the social
Intercourse we need.
If you’ve got a scientific grant,
We’ve got your deep freeze.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra.
Watch it bring you to your knees.
I want to watch you renew our funding please.
Welcome to the tundra.
We take it day by day.
If you want it, you’ll wear lots of fur,
And get industry-competitive pay.
And if you’re a very sexy girl
Let likes to talk and chat
You better get your cell phone out
‘Cause us guys don’t dig all that.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra
Feel my, my, my polar bear.
Ooh, you’d better grow your hair.
Welcome to the tundra
Where we’ve got two-hour days.
You learn to live like an animal
In our permafrost-sampling ways.
If your hungry, here’s an MRE.
You’ll get used to them eventually.
You can have anything you want
Unless it’s fresh, flavorful, or hot.
And if you’re high, you’re actually
At the same elevation as everyone else.
You know where you are;
You’re in the tundra baby.
Your skin’ll get dry in the tundra.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra
Studying stratification.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra
Writing your dissertation.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra
Extrapolating from incomplete information.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra.
It’ll bring you to your
Required credits of applied study. Ha!
The Hunger Games
I did an activity in a setting
That evokes a novel mood,
Then you you see my way of life
And my love interest dude.
Then it’s all turned upside down
In this young adult dystopia,
And I have to kill some children
Packed inside a cornucopia.
Eventually I win the games,
Then I go back my fam.
Then I go on a victory tour
In a super-high-tech tram.
I see some starving people
And they kiss their fingers at me.
I say some stupid, honest stuff
And hope they’ll let me be.
Alas, I’m wrong, and the mean white guy
Puts me back in the game.
I bust out with an arrow.
A shoddy forcefield’s to blame.
I find myself deep underground
Amidst a rebel plot,
And I get to dress up like a bird
And get the rebels hot.
We fight a war and sort of win
(‘Cause lots of people die).
Then I marry love interest
And bid you all good bye.
Filed under Poems
Heck’s Angels
Have you heard the low thrum
Of a dozen mopeds
Cresting the rise of a hill?
The carry an air
Of environmental concern,
And always pay their bill.
The drink microbrews,
Read the Huffington post,
And ride to protest warming weather.
They want to be safe,
But they won’t kill a cow,
So instead they’re decked out in fruit leather.
They’ve occupied Wall Street
And conquered small towns.
They adopted Obamacare early.
They wear handmade bling
And fair trade hemp socks
And, only on Facebook, act surly.
And then with a puff
Of carbon-free smoke
They pedal away once again.
They’re Al Gore’s private army,
The Heck’s Angels gang,
Inclusive of GBT men.
Filed under Poems
Tickle Culture
You’re a bad human being,
Not because of what you do,
But because you have fingers.
I’ll prove it to you.
But first a few facts
From an uncited source:
Sixty percent of ticklish marriages
End in divorce.
If that’s not enough,
Let the record show
Ninety-nine percent of victims
Are tickled by someone they know.
Just because you don’t tickle
Doesn’t wash you of guilt.
Look around? Don’t you see
The tickle culture you’ve built.
But after writing this
Everything stays the same.
All I’m seeking to do
Is impose fear and shame.
If I succeeded,
I am one happy elf.
If I didn’t, you’re evil.
Go tickle yourself.
Filed under Poems
The Star Spangled Blind Date
Oh say can you see
By the fluorescent lights
That red flag you sought out
On their online profile,
That was written so well,
Focused on good highlights
But it failed to reveal
All the things that were vile.
As the waiters brings food
And your date wrecks the mood
By reciting some thoughts
That are terribly lewd.
“Oh say, did you notice
It’s getting too late for me.
“This was a very special night,”
You lie as you flee.
Filed under Poems, Songs, To the Reader
Good Morning Moon
Originally composed in 2012, this epic poem spans the bridge between treatise and children’s poetry. It reveals to us our own ephemeral lifestyle of insults, mindlessness, depression, old ladies whispering “hush,” and the African tourism industry Now, published for the first time, this masterpiece of modern literature, no, the definition of the future of art, is made accessible to the general public. Also, the emperor’s new wardrobe has arrived).
Good morning room,
Good morning moon.
Why are you up in the day
You stupid buffoon?
Good morning chairs
Good morning bears.
Good morning kittens
And the hairballs they spittin’s.
Good morning clocks
And good morning socks.
And green eggs and ham rocks
In a box with a fox.
Good morning comb
And good morning brush.
I feel like a nobody…
My heart turns to mush.
(And something about an old lady
Whispering “Hush.”)
Good bye stars
And good bye air.
I’m going on vacation to somewhere in Zaire.
You get it, right?
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Pop Songs
Pop songs, pop songs
Teach you the day of the week.
Pop song, pop songs
Are not sung by guys who are meek.
Pop songs, pop songs
They are easy to memorize.
Pop songs, pop songs
Are, like this poem, not very wise.
(Chorus)
Pop songs are songs
Sung by people in thongs
That go on too longs
Oh yeah!
They’re repetitive songs
That go on too longs
Sung by people in thongs
Oh yeah!
Pop songs, pop songs
They are songs in the popular genre.
Pop songs, pop songs
It’s their simplicity that has drawn ya
To Pop songs, pop songs
You getting the point yet my friend?
Pop songs, pop songs.
Now it’s time for this song to end.
(Chorus)
(Chorus)
(Chorus)
(Chorus)
(Chorus)
Fade and repeat
Filed under Lyrics
This is Rain
This is rain.
This is rain.
Rain is like water
That falls from the clouds.
Rain is like a simile that is not redundant,
Nor does it repeat itself or say the same thing more than once.
In fact, rain does not say anything at all,
But if it it did, it would say “Moo”
Because rain often falls on cows,
And it’s useful to speak the same language as those around you.
Rain is the color of chemically bonded hydrogen and oxygen
Kept between zero and one-hundred degrees celsius.
It is wise beyond its years,
Especially since it doesn’t have a brain,
And quiet, except when you are sleeping or trying to concentrate
And wise beyond its years.
Rain is like water, falling from the clouds,
The sky trying to punch the Earth
And failing,
Because the sky has no muscles or arms.
This is rain.
This is rain.
Filed under Poems
Dedicated to William Carlos Williams
Flash!
There is a sparrow in a tree.
It croons, and calls out.
It’s just like that.
Flash!
Now the bird is dead.
It flew into a window.
Other avians will do the same.
Flash, and there is ice cream, melting over the bird,
Its speckled corpse is sticky and happy as the sweet confection
Of humanity
Perjures itself upon the hollow-boned beauty.
Then it is gone, eaten by a raccoon.
The white chickens gather around.
It is important.
In other words…
so much depends
upon
a dead meal
sparrow
glazed with
ice cream
beside the white
chickens.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 