“Short people might not play basketball
But that doesn’t mean that they cannot.“
That was the reasoning cited
For making the Kool-Aid man an astronaut.
Tag Archives: poems
Batman!
There once was a millionaire socialite
Who liked to dress up and fight crime at night.
First he’d battle a villain
Then go home and be chillin’
And so far he’s exclusively white.
Filed under Poems
My Dirt On The Clintons
Once, a president under duress
Confessed to a great deal of stress.
‘Twas beyond his reach
To deliver a speech
So he gave out an email address.
—————————————————————
There was a political genius
Who possessed such a marvelous keenness.
He’d be more beloved, except
His PR was inept
On the point of interns and his penius.
Filed under Poems
Why Not Let AI Do My Job? (Or Why My Poems Aren’t So Bad After All)
Whose milkshake is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite happy though.
Full of joy like a vivid rainbow,
I watch her laugh. I cry hello.
She gives her milkshake a shake,
And laughs until her belly aches.
The only other sound’s the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.
The milkshake is sweet, cold and deep,
But she has promises to keep,
After cake and lots of sleep.
Sweet dreams come to her cheap.
She rises from her gentle bed,
With thoughts of kittens in her head,
She eats her jam with lots of bread.
Ready for the day ahead.
Filed under Poems
Not An AI Poem, But An Aiai Poem
I eye an eye of the aiai,
Upon the visage of the ape
And as I eye the aiai, I sigh
For I’m shocked, yet it’s not yet agape.
Filed under Poems
With Pictures (But Not Of That, You Pervert)
I have a voyeuristic cat
Who likes to look at this and that.
He’d probably be less entertained
If his own this and that remained,
But since he’s now a they/them
He’ll hop atop the bed: “Ahem.”
And when we finish he does not,
But instead meows: “You’re in my spot.”
Filed under Poems
“Musical Mom… Musical” -The Cast, Apparently
I went to see a play
At night (the end of the day)
But boy was I shocked
And irreverently mocked
When the cast said “It’s a musical, hey!”
Filed under Poems
And The Rest Is History
There once were two boys from Descartes
Who possessed pure and beautiful hearts
Until one rainy day
In a childish way
They learned how to bottle their farts…
Filed under Poems
And Most Artists Are Good At It…
Part of making art
Is having sincere belief
That your crap is gold.
Filed under Poems
When You Have To Do More Than One Creative Thing In A Day
There once was a D&D game
Hosted by this poet, the same.
It ended quite late
With most epic of fates
But as consequence this poem is lame.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 