Why do people always think
That I’m a creepy guy
Just ’cause I eat other humans?
Oh why, oh why, oh why?
Why can’t they come to love me
As a human, not a specter?
Heck, they made a TV show
All about Hannibal Lecter!
Why can I not find true love?
Why are all hearts filled with doubt?
I thought that lots of people
Liked to be romantically eaten out!
I’m entirely worthy of your trust
From my toes to my chin’s cleft!
And don’t mind the BBQ sauce shower…
It’s just something the old owners left.
Filed under Poems
Good looking people
Talking to each other.
Man is an idiot
Who experiences a bother.
Woman corrects her counterpart
Via the featured service or good.
Be a good ad writer?
Yes, I think I would
Filed under Poems
I got a suspicious email
From Prince Magbar of Venezuasia
Saying “want to go fishing this Sunday?”
You can’t let emails like that faze ya.
I got another message
A week after the first.
“Dear friend, I must give you money
“Or I fear my spleen will burst.”
I finally blocked his messages
To no longer get that spam,
But only moments later
I questioned who I am
To deny a man with money-spleen
From going fishing with his dear friend.
I replied, guiltily, and we met by the lake
Where he tore out and ate my lungs. The end!
Filed under Poems
I watch you smile
In your sleep.
What secrets do
Your dreams so keep?
Will the joyfulness
Your rest bestowed
Remain when you see
Your car’s been towed?
Filed under Poems
Somewhere someone is dying,
Nobly becoming a martyr.
Somewhere someone is getting
Less than what for they did barter.
Somewhere someone deemed saintworthy
As “Patron of Muffin Tops” is anointed.
But here I’m alive and unrecognized
And somehow I’m not disappointed.
Filed under Poems
If you’re rubber
And I’m glue
You can call me anything
And I’m just screwed…
Filed under Poems
Once upon a time
There lived a lovely dame
Who got stolen by a dragon
Which she thought was pretty lame.
No one came to rescue her
Cause didn’t need no man.
The princes stayed at home
And got flabby eating flan.
Filed under Poems
People these days
Are way too PC.
Take my friend (who for privacy
And rhyming’s sake we’ll call “B”).
B got offended
When I said “poop and pee.”
Even so, it’s still what
Her dinner tasted like to me.
Filed under Poems
She’s a glass doll made of plastic,
A silent symphony,
A baby butterfly
But not a caterpillar, see.
She’s the sense of satisfaction
Men don’t get from buying shoes.
She’s a pomegranate seed,
But just the part without the juice.
She’s nonfat butter ice cream.
She’s that feeling of “just woke up.”
She’s everything and nothing
Which is probably why we broke up.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 