I went to the movies
With a hefty bag
Of detritus, garbage, and junk
Because you told me
To take out the trash.
This was the date up which I thunk.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Linguistically Correct
Filed under Poems
Driver’s Ed Dropouts
Saw down a tree.
Chop it down with an ax.
Burn it, chainsaw it,
Send it anthrax.
There are lots of good ways
To get rid of a tree,
But hitting it with your car
Doesn’t sound smart to me.
Filed under Poems
Ode to an iPhone
You tell me how much time I waste
And predict my musical taste.
You hold my apps. My photos too.
Where would “i” be without you.
You give me guidance when I’m lost.
You’re worth my monthly data cost.
When I’m lonely on the road
I swipe to wake you and enter my code
And there I am! Right back at home.
In a pinch, you’re a mirror for my comb.
You light the darkness, check my mail,
Encourage me to “play again” when I fail.
You’ll be with me night and day.
To all your thoughts I’ll click OK.
So phone of mine, I cannot lie:
You are the Apple of my “i.”
Filed under Poems
I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butterfly
I wanted to collect butterflies,
But mom and dad said no.
I said “I’ll collect margarin flies instead.”
I sure told them so!
So here I’m sitting with my net
Wondering “where did they all go?”
Filed under Poems
That Wasn’t Chicken
I wanted fried rice
At a very low price
Because I was poor and young.
What other excuse
Would I have for the use
Of a menu from “Meow Tse Tung.”
Filed under Poems
The Butler
A monocle, a violin,
A fancy tailcoat.
I held a tray the British way
And never did I gloat.
A ball and chain, a little cot,
A fancy jumpsuit too.
Everyone thinks I’m guilty,
And I bet that you do too.
So now I’m serving “Chef’s Surprise”
In the prisoners’ cafe.
And with each bow I think of how
To escape, the British way.
Filed under Poems
The Last Amiable Sheriff
Hi there partner!
I’m Sheriff Steve.
I like riding on my pony
To deter those who thieve.
I only carry a gun
For shooting bottles at the quarry,
But if that makes you nervous
Then I assure you, do not worry.
Because Sheriff Steve has other ways
Of detaining unlawful sorts:
A friendly smile, a stern “now, now,”
And some more witty retorts.
There’s little crime in this town of mine
So I’m doing a good job.
These were the last words of Sheriff Steve
As he greeted Outlaw Bob.
Filed under Poems
Single Parents
Creatures from the valley
And monsters of the sky
Meet once a year to celebrate
Somewhere around Shanghai.
They talk about their differences
And play some volleyball
And dance around a shooting star
And drink until last call.
Then they find a human folk
And roast them o’er the flame,
Because they’re monsters after all;
To not do so would be lame.
And having eaten, sinned, and all
They fly and dig back home.
Dad said that’s where mama went.
He read it in a tome.
Filed under Poems
