Nike pays their workers
About sixteen dollars a week for
Them to work 80 hours
Making a pricey brand-name sneaker
(That’s twenty cents an hour
For those with a math obsession)
But hey! They’re paying Kaepernick
To speak out against oppression.
Tag Archives: poems
Happy Birthday (And You Smell Like One Too)
Jubilations on the most recent anniversary
Of your extra-uteral emergence into the nursery.
Your visage has an undeniable simian similarity
And your olfactory signature is also resemblant, although cursory.
Filed under Poems
Yes, I Was Playing White
I played a game of chess today
With a lass from West L.A.
I pinned her king and said “Checkmate,”
But West L.A demanded “Wait!”
She pointed out that I had doomed
A king whose gender I’d assumed
And what my small mind hadn’t seen
Was that I had trapped her second queen.
Having no method now to win
I concluded she had done me in.
Now the world can only guess:
Why don’t more lesbians play chess?
Filed under Poems
Sue Can Empathize
I used to be a beat cop
For the city of LA,
Busting heads and taking names
And shutting crooks away.
I had a code of honor
That would supersede the law…
That was me, the sexy renegade,
The American Eagle’s claw.
But though I stood at six-foot-ten
And had zero body fat,
Had six-pack abs and a .44 mag,
A badge and all of that
I knew my name was whispered
In every darkened alley
And I still could not see why
My parents chose to name me “Sally.”
Filed under Poems
Still More Fun Than Watching Soccer
I want to play rock-paper-scissors
Where scissors beats rock, ’cause then
Everyone would always choose scissors
And it would make the game more “zen.”
Filed under Poems
Canadian Muslim Problems
In December I sat on a frozen lake
And fished for rainbow trout.
The next two months I did the same
‘Cause that’s what I’m about.
This Summer I’m vacationing
Somewhere in the Maldives.
I know there’s no ice-fishing there
But I can avoid my 28 wives.
Filed under Poems
When You Break The 11th Commandment
There once was a womxn from Berkeley
Who acted rashly and berserkly.
Zhe drove a non-hybrid car
To an all-vegan bar.
These micro-aggressions were carried out jerkily.
Filed under Poems
Truth, AKA The Last Resort
Once again I find myself
Besot by evening’s chill,
No longer in possession of
The time I had to kill.
My mind fixates upon the task
I’ve thus far left undone:
I swore I’d write a poem a day
And yet have written none.
Thus I lie upon my bed
Writing where I am now,
Stating the truth about my life
As syllables allow.
Now comes the peril of present-tense:
I write that I’m writing,
Now I reread the previous line
To see if it’s exciting.
I also find, where once I wrote
Six syllables then eight,
My meter has forsaken me
By virtue of it’s late.
Thus endeth my desperate foray
To create relevant verse.
To all reading I bid good night!
(Poetry is a curse).
Taste Optional
I saw an advertisement
For a poetry group today
Inviting folks to “come and read
“A poem that stabs the heart,
Reveals a truth or sadness,
Or helps you shout hooray.”
I was not well received
By reading “Ode to a Fart.”
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 