I’m writing this poem
As I’m brushing my teeth,
Hunting down food bits
All hidden beneath
The sharp, off-white bone spurs
That jut from my gum.
My teeth are all clean now
But my rhymes are still dumb.
I’m writing this poem
As I’m brushing my teeth,
Hunting down food bits
All hidden beneath
The sharp, off-white bone spurs
That jut from my gum.
My teeth are all clean now
But my rhymes are still dumb.
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I bought a ‘57 Chevy
(Or what’s left of it, at least)
And I fixed it up so I
Could be a sexy beast.
I cruised it up and down the block
To pick up saucy chicks.
Alas, my ‘57 Chevy
Doesn’t hide that I’m 86.
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My neighbor’s kids are Michael,
Esther, Hannah, Ruth, and Paul
And they don’t think that Bible names
Are old-fashioned at all.
My other neighbor’s children
Are Meshack and Hezekiah
And for some reason no one thought
To even ask them why-uh.
But I follow suit and give
My kid a name of that kind…
But when I called him “Nimrod”
Everybody lost their mind.
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There once was a film from the past
And people said it was a blast;
Then Hollywood said
“What if instead
“It had an (insert group here) cast?”
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If everybody had a gun
The world would be a lot of fun
And if everyone died ‘cause I was wrong
No one would complain this poem ain’t long.
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Tonight I was abducted
By a girl with rosy hair
And forced into abiding love
Of depth both fine and rare.
She’s brushing her teeth now
And I’m trying to write this fast.
(This wasn’t my first “my girl’s here” poem
And it surely won’t be my last).
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When I write poems in the evening
They’re terrible, so today I said
“I’m going to write my poem first thing”
And now I’m bad in the morning instead!
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There was a majestic white horse
Who was, of nature, a force.
She said “It’s alright
“That our kid’s black and white”
But her husband still wants a divorce.
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Today I applied
For a job at Haikuists
And my resume
Was almost complete
But alas this applicant
Didn’t think ahead.
They asked for Haikus
About Love and Spring and Cats
But they had no space
For me to submit
These poems, and so I post
Them for your sake here:
Spring In Protland
Spring is in the air…
So is pollen, and it rains
While the sun still shines
Cats
Fickle feline friend…
Six pounds of pure killing force…
What a cutey pie!
Love
You will meet someone
And your soul will fill with fire
Be sure to hydrate
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Sometimes I wonder if I’d be happier
If I’d been born as an eel,
But then when a movie takes a shocking turn
I wouldn’t know how to feel…
Then I go on Google to find an animal
That’s happiest, and today I found it:
Introducing the greatest bird ever…
The American Bushtit.

Filed under Poems