There once was a farmer
Who started a battered women’s shelter
For cows, and it was so full
That out of the stables
They sold books for profit
And that’s how you got Barns and No-Bull.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Man’s Favorite Hobby
Sometimes you go to the bathroom
To just get away from it all
Or sometimes you make a poop
That’s the color of Darth Maul.
They both take about the same time
To finish, which is alright.
I did one while writing this poem
So you’re welcome. Now good night.
Filed under Poems
A Political Prodigy
I think my daughter will be president
Because she’s only three years old
And already knows how to tell everyone
To shut up and do as they’re told.
Filed under Poems
Softball Questions
There once was a baseball glove
Who, with a human, fell in love.
You may doubt, but I’ll confirm it:
They lived together, but he’s a her mitt.
Filed under Poems
The Masculine Dilemma
I could pay money every month
To have access to a gym
Where I lift heavy objects
To feel pain within my limb
And when the lifting’s over
I can climb or bike or run
On a machine that makes it possible
To never feel done
Then I can take my clothes off
In a public locker room
And eat vegetables for breakfast…
Or I can stay home and play Doom.
Filed under Poems
My First Bachelor Party (True Story)
I ate a lot of sushi
And I drove a lot of miles
And played a lot of board games
And enjoyed a lot of smiles
And now I’m in a Lexus
Writing poems on my phone
And so far I’ve only said one thing
For which I must atone…
Filed under Poems
My Community College Application Essay
“He who thinks great thoughts
“Often makes great errors”.
That’s a quote from Martin Heidegger.
I don’t think great thoughts
And I also make great errors…
That’s a quote from me. Also, Flydeigger.
Filed under Poems
More Is Better
“Would you like to sit at the table”
My mother asked, her voice sour.
“I’m good” I replied, my voice filled with pride
As I stared down at her from my tower.
Filed under Poems
The Other Opening Was For “End Of Days Rituals Inc.
I got a job at the olive oil factory
And my coworker is a nun.
Now they can write “Extra Virgin” again
‘Cause for a while they just had one.
Filed under Poems
Tucker’s One Regret
When I was in Kindergarten
We all sang a song
That was very fun
But not very long
That went “Hannah Hannah Bo Banna
“Banana fana fo fana
Me my mo mannah
Hannah.”
We sang it over and over
Until whenever the time came
That everyone but me had been called
But they never did my name…
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 