Sammeeches are yummiyums
And cheekens good in bellies
And I like grapes and appleswoss
And chocolate-caramellies.
I can eat twenty tootsie rollups
And an asparagoos stawck as well.
I’m a master of munching and yummiyums
But not twalking or nowing how to spell.
Filed under Poems
Twinkling blacktop ice
Gleams like diamonds. I turn right
But my car goes left.
Filed under Poems
“Nazi” is a word we say
When people think a certain way
That is different from what we
Are told the world’s supposed to be.
Filed under Poems
There once was a streaming station
Who aired a playoff game to the nation.
The broadcast was bad
And no one will be sad
If the ratings show as “Devastation.”
Filed under Poems
We played D&D
For nine hours today
So my brain is quite fried
And I hope it’s okay
That this poem is brief,
Just seven lines long.
“Why not eight?” you ask?
I think we should make the minimum wage
A million dollars an hour
So we could see the system collapse
And redefine the balance of power.
Filed under Poems
Tonight my pipes were in trouble
Because they’d broken the law.
The cops spotted their getaway
And shouted “There! Haha”
And then the cops made a booboo
As they called to the pipes in the night:
They shouted “Freeze!” and now
There’s no water to shower tonight.
Filed under Poems
The waitress took our order
With a smile on her face
And then apparently decided
To desert the human race.
More than half an hour later
We’ve killed a pitcher of beer.
Our senses are still present
Though the help has disappeared.
It’s midnight at the bar,
Then it’s one here at the grill.
Our belly’s good and empty
But our hope is holding still.
We’re waiting on our sandwich
And it’s 2025,
And the chef has just confirmed
That the waitress is alive.
My beard is grey, my hair is gone,
I drool and shift and snore…
Then the waitress comes out smiling
And she says “Five minutes more.”
Filed under Poems
I’m basically a werewolf
But instead of being transformy
When the full moon rises
I get very horny.
The other difference
Between a werewolf and my ways
Is that I’m also were-horny
The other 28 days.
Filed under Poems
A missionary and his doggy
Went to town via 69th street.
This poem would be longer
But I don’t know grownup sheet.
The Daily Travesty 