A train is coming down a track
On which doth a maiden lie.
If I took no action
It was certain that she’d die
But if I threw a lever
The train would change its track
And Taylor Swift would never die.
Now on maiden crows do snack.
Tag Archives: poems
It Was Totally Sincere, But Then I Needed A Rhyme
I’m grateful for people
Who do not expect
Good poems on holidays
And, to me, genuflect.
Filed under Poems
Feel Free To Replace “Bauer” With That One… Special Person
‘Twas the day before Thanksgiving
And all of the Bauers
Were being ungrateful
For 24 hours
For tomorrow they knew
They must put on a smile
And pretend to be happy,
At least for a while.
Then out of the sun
Did a meteor fall
And struck down the Bauers
And flattened them all.
On Thanksgiving that followed
This disaster from God
Everyone else was happy,
Which no one found odd…
Filed under Poems
When All The Good Men Are 5’11”
If a man makes 40k
And his girl makes 10
She’ll happily be his Barbie
And he will be her Ken.
If a man makes 40k
And his girl makes 20
She will call him Sugarplum
And he will call her Honey.
If a man makes 40k
And his girl makes thirty
You can guarantee that they’ll
Be eager to talk dirty.
If a man makes 40k
And she makes 41
Shame on her for dating down!
Their relationship is done.
Filed under Poems
Three Philosophies Best Spoken Rapidly And Without Breathing…
Some monastic people say that if you can forgo enough
That you can lose the urge to call some other people “bro” and stuff.
To do this is a sort of psychologicalish double-bluff
That, if applied correctly, leaves you feeling rather strong and tough.
On the other hand our non-monastic colleagues like to say
Pursuing earthly pleasures is, to happiness, a surer way
And that forgoing stuff is very (insert synonym for gay)
And that, through your indulgences, you’re guaranteed to feel okay.
I am of a middle-ground, a kind of tertiary school
For those who think that happiness comes not from being tough or cool
But that the key unlocking all the treasures of this happy stuff
Is “Everything is perfect if you keep your standards low enough.”
Filed under Poems
Penis Envy, by Dr. Seuss
How terribly toxic it seems to me
That it must be to be a “he,”
And yet, for reasons I can’t see,
A he is what I wish to be.
Filed under Poems
The American Way
You haven’t thought of pickles today
And you haven’t jumped a rope.
You haven’t kissed an armadillo
And you’ll never be the pope.
Your eyes aren’t orange like cinnamon
And you have a tooth smaller than your knee,
But if we voted for a different guy
You’ll probably disagree.
Filed under Poems
