They represent the lollipop guild
And they made sure I knew, the little F***ers.
They sang it so proudly, but I resisted the lure.
I know that it’s just a guild for suckers.
They represent the lollipop guild
And they made sure I knew, the little F***ers.
They sang it so proudly, but I resisted the lure.
I know that it’s just a guild for suckers.
Filed under Poems
What in the sheltered blue of dawn
Was in the sunlight brown as fawn
Turned reddish bronze in ochre night
And yellow in the Summer’s flight.
The spectrum warranted by such
Invoked in hearts a feeling much
As was supposed in rumor and buzz
That no one knew just what it was.
Opaqueness faded into clear
As people gathered far and near
To gaze on the whatever thing
Until the spoken truth would ring.
Alas as stanzas came and went,
The verses writ and meter bent
It soon was clear that even I,
The poet, could not identify
Just what in sheltered blue of dawn
Would visably change as all looked on.
This ending fixed inside my head
I thought of a rhyme and went to bed.
Filed under Poems
Rubber chicken,
Plastic duck.
The year is over;
That’s just our luck.
Ceramic peacock,
Wooden goose.
Next year is nigh
So I must vamoose.
Filed under Poems
I’m in a time vortex
In a failed experiment to get more sex.
Now I’m trapped in 2098 selling Goretex.
2017 could have gone better.
Filed under Poems
“Glorify me!”
Yelled the beetle
Before he was squashed
By old Mr. Cheadle.
So if you think you’re important
You’d best think again
Or else be on the lookout
For little old men.
Filed under Poems
Some claim my speech invalid
Because my skin is pallid.
Some think you can’t be right
If your skin blends into night.
But what we all agree upon
Be we dark or pale
Is that we’re superior to
The common goose or quail.
Filed under Poems
The road is cold and lonely,
The street is chill and bare,
And the temperature is cold
On the abandoned thoroughfare.
The avenue’s deserted
And the frost clings to my hair
As I concisely summarize
That ice is all that’s present there.
The lane’s devoid of people
And our breath hangs in the air.
The thermometer’s relative lowness
Means to be outside few apparently dare.
The cul-de-sac is frigid
And devoid of folk, I swear.
It’s frosted and filled with people
In such quantity as those whom about this poem still do care.
Filed under Poems
Chestnut’s roasting
On an open fire,
But you know all about that.
What I don’t know
Is why you thought
Chestnut was a good name for a cat.
Filed under Poems
Today is the day
The trees come inside
And the children go out
In the ice and the snow.*
Why we bring in trees
Is a mystery to me
And why we take back the kids
I don’t rightfully know.
*If you looked at this asterisk
You may not be from Minnesota
Filed under Poems