I love myself. I’m awesome.
I do, myself, amaze.
I really am incredible
In oh so many ways.
That’s why I decided
To buy myself a ring
And propose to myself romantically
While the doves of morning sing.
Alas, I’m so amazing
That I’m too good for me
So I turned down the proposal
And sobbed and said “Hehe.”
I am all distraught, and yet
I’m strong of will and mettle
Knowing that I’m great enough
To never, ever settle.
Filed under Poems
Socks suck!
That’s an absolute fact.
They make your feet sweaty
And fail to attract.
They’re itchy and tubular,
Brown, black, and white
But if paired with some sandals
I guess they’re alright…
Filed under Poems
Asians are little.
White people are bigger.
The next largest up
Would have to be the magnitude of panic in your eyes when I start reading this poem on the streets of any major city at night.
Filed under Poems
I heard a job ad this afternoon:
“Need a change in career?
“Get a class A CDL
“And drive a big rig here.”
The company that advertised
Was “Johnson’s Gas and Lubricant Shipping”
And I figured it was close enough
To my current job of stripping…
After all, I already know
How to handle giant hardware,
How to move lube on the night shift,
And stopping traffic isn’t rare.
I load cargo in the backdoor
And handle massive logs
And I’ve known my share of pigs
(As well as cows and dogs).
I’ve made a living dancing
But now I just can’t wait
To sit all day upon my butt
‘Cause I know my butt is great!
Filed under Poems
I am stuck behind a car
Who doesn’t know quite where they are
And so decide to navigate
By traveling at 28.
I am stuck behind this guy
And starting to examine why
They made a law to punish those
Who ram the guys who hog the roads.
Filed under Poems
The heat is getting hot in here
And the sun is really sunny,
Unlike when it rained so hard
It was damp and unfunny.
I like it when it’s hot sometimes
Unlike my colleague, Heather
Who thinks she’s good-looking enough
To talk about the weather.
Filed under Poems
If I were a possum
And also a poet
I’d write while I’m scared
And the writing would show it;
I’d start a stanza
But when filled with dread
I’d
Filed under Poems
The itsy-bitsy spider
Was sitting on the floor,
Having a rest
Beneath the cabinet door.
I came to smash him
And end his worthless life
But he crawled away to safety…
Now I have to face the wife.
Filed under Poems
I was in Transylvania
On a foolish holiday
When a vampire decided
To make me not ok.
I saw that he was hungry
But I sought to understand
What filled this monster’s heart
In this spooky far-off land.
He said when he was mortal
He had owned a ranch,
And the finest heads of cattle
Came from his European branch.
He longed for the days of yore
When cooking was an art,
So I cooked him up a ribeye.
It was a steak through his heart.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 