If you were born with giant feet
And a spherical scarlet nose
And super pale powdery skin
And carrying a plastic rose
I think you should become a clown
And make a living so
‘Cause if you don’t then people
Might think you’re creepy, just so you know.
Tag Archives: Postaday
“I” Pronounced “E,” In This Case Before “Le”
I looked for better deals
For my monthly cell phone plan.
Some offers good, others not,
There was a terrific span.
But the ad from Virgin Mobile
Was the one that caught my eye.
It was a picture of my car;
“Read our name again and cry.”
Filed under Poems
Apparently, Caring About The Details Is Somewhat Important
Flashlight, flashdark,
Flash anywhere.
Just so long as you flash me
I really do not care.
Flashlight, flashdark,
Flash all sorts of beams.
I’ll flash you all you want
Every night inside your dreams.
Filed under Poems
The Jury’s Still Out On Flowers Though…
I’m sitting in the forest,
Bony flesh among the trees,
Trying to consort with both
The flowers and the bees.
As the hours came and went
And nature’s reply did not
I remembered my childhood
And found I had a thought:
The scarecrow of Dorothy’s comp’ny
Lacked a brain, which stopped him from
Doing as I was attempting.
So I questioned: “Am I dumb?”
One of the bees responded:
“Nope. Now go back to the mall.”
I did just that, but pleased
That bees aren’t assholes after all.
Filed under Poems
I-68, She Younger
I asked a gal if she wanted
To do the back-seat bingo,
Which is why I lost twenty dollars
To a gal who don’t know 50’s lingo.
Filed under Poems
The Disability We All Must Endure
Some folks called me deaf.
Some folks called me blind.
Some said I was a freak.
Some said I’d lost my mind.
Some said I sort of squealed
When a bird flew at my eye
Which, on account of my blindness and deafness
I can neither confirm nor deny.
Some folks called me Shithead.
Some folks called me Walt.
Both of those are my middle names
Which is my parents’ fault.
Some folks called me other things
Which may have made me sad
But I don’t know the specifics
‘Cause their brail handwriting’s so bad.
Some folks say I’m stubborn.
Some folks say I’m cheerful.
Some folks express gratitude
That I never give them an ear full.
Some say I can’t appreciate
The world like others do,
But at least I know the smell of AXE
So, in that sense, I’m just like you.
Filed under Poems
Mr. Lecter Helps Educate Recent Graduates
“Do what makes you happy”
Is what my first psychiatrist said,
So can you really blame me
When the shrink ended up all dead?
Filed under Poems
Support For The 58* Genders?
If you’ve got a gender
And that gender is Agender
Than an Agender gender
Is the gender that you’ve got,
But if you think non-cis is nonsense
And you don’t buy into bi
Then things which you are thinking
May be different than you thought.
There’s a rift between androgyny,
Pangender folks, and the FTM.
You may think that there’s no difference
Between trans-males and trans-men,
Or that trans-ness is divided
Down the trans-two-gender line
When in fact the trans-varieties
Number nearly twenty-nine!
If your creed denies this credence
You’ll be supported a few more years,
But if the “miss” in “miscelaneous”
Offends you, have no fears;
If you identify as other
But don’t like “other” as your name
Then nonconforming, variant, or non-binary
Are semi-synonyms for you to claim.
And if you want to carve your identity
In history’s hallowed halls
Invent your own custom gender now.
(May I suggest: No-balls?)
And make the list grow larger
Than the current 58
And you can show the establishment
That you don’t want America to again be great!
*Subject to change
Filed under Poems
Baby Don’t Got Back
I saw her and yelled to her “Hey!”
Then I asked “those legs go all the way?”
Then I thought “what the heck?”
‘Cause her legs met her neck
Which I noticed as she walked away.
Filed under Poems
And You Can Help By Buying My Books! (For Art’s Sake)
If I make a million dollars
Writing poetry some day
I’ll buy a bunch of bushes
And cut them in a way
That they’re shaped like women
Who don’t like 50 Shades of Grey
Because we all need a bit more
Of those in our lives, eh?
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 