There once was a five-year-old child
Who was happy, and ran somewhat wild.
This continued unabated
Because the child wasn’t medicated
And thus several lawsuits were filed.
There once was a five-year-old child
Who was happy, and ran somewhat wild.
This continued unabated
Because the child wasn’t medicated
And thus several lawsuits were filed.
Filed under Poems
“What comes up must come down”
My teacher told me with a frown,
But here’s a thing that I don’t get:
Why isn’t that true for government debt?
Filed under Poems
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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There once was a democracy
Of half a billion, plus me.
The others said no,
But I said yes, so
You are my slaves. Hee hee hee.
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There once was an actor named Will
Who was punished for slapping, until
He thought “I’ll never be arrested
“If they knew I molested
“And trafficked minors for capitol hill!”
Filed under Poems
In almost every fairy tale
Before Disney went woke
Someone would be destitute…
Good-looking, yes, but broke.
Someone else would come along
And always do what’s right
And the two of them would marry
And ride off into the night.
The question that arises
But that Disney still ignores
Is how “Happily ever after”
Can coexist with chores,
How princesses and monsters
And kings and queens and knights
Can say that they are happy
Despite their many fights,
That life keeps getting in their way
And still they smile on,
Breathing fire in the evening
Yet they’re safe again at dawn.
These fairy tales could have said
“And from then on the chose
“Always to be partners
“Even when they felt like foes.”
But instead, soon I suspect
Disney will say “Though rage
“Occasionally dampened their spirits,
“They were saved by a higher minimum wage.”
Filed under Poems
There once was a televised speech
Made by a corrupt human leech.
He said lots of stuff
But not nearly enough
To justify gross overreach.
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I think all the world’s problems
Could be solved in a day if we
Just banded together to kill politicians
Whose surnames don’t end with “qz”.
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As people protest from the East to the West
Why aren’t more onlookers suspicious
Of the motives behind the folks who sell signs?
(Or is thinking such things inauspicious?)
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There once was a fascist ideal
That stirred up political zeal.
It showed only news
Which supported its views
Then mandated we see its appeal.
*They have my family… help!
Filed under Poems