Tag Archives: Parody

August 10, 2012 · 9:45 am

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?

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June 20, 2012 · 9:56 am

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

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June 16, 2012 · 1:47 pm

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.

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June 6, 2012 · 8:30 am

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.

 

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