It’s hard to write a travesty
If, indeed, you are like me
And despite your hopes and dreams
Nothing hurts and no one screams.
It’s hard to find valid complaints
When no one bleeds or pukes or faints,
When songbirds sing and angels fly
And all the spiders up and die.
It’s hard to be a downer debbie
When light stuff’s light and hebby’s hebby.
The world is peaceful, lovely, flat…
Oh wait, it’s not?
I can write about that!
Filed under Poems
A spin across the border
Up to Canada I go
But as the guards interrogate
My engine starts to slow.
A bit of coaxing later
There’s a spitter-sputter-spop!
And off I go, yet unaware
I won’t make it to my stop.
I travel down the highways
91 and 99
Going Northward to Vancouver
And my truck’s still going fine.
I pull into a left turn lane
And my heart can only drop
‘Cause the green arrow says “go”
And my engine says “nah, stop.”
And so I try a jump start
To no avail, I hate to say.
911 responds and sends
A friendly tow truck on its way.
The nicest driver ever
Hooks up chains and ropes and all
And we drive back to America
Truck as f***ed up as Darth Maul.
Now a tow truck is a large machine
That can’t turn on a dime
And the driver drops me kindly
At the border crossing line.
I wait and wait and wait and wait
Until the light turns green
And thus begins the uphill push
Of my alternator-less machine.
I push up to the crossing
Halfway out and halfway in
$270 Canadian poorer
But back where I said “begin.”
So for a second tow I wait
Watching hour hands tick by.
If this poem’s unusually thoughtful, well
You know the reason why.
Filed under Poems
It’s late.
I’m tired.
Trump says
“You’re fired.”
I lack
My mind.
People who can’t see
Are blind.
I waited
So long
To write
What’s wrong
Yet still
My other stuff
Is often worse
So there. *Huff*
Filed under Poems
Glum spelunkers
Flop and scoot
And wobble in a crevasse.
I don’t know whether
That’s relevant or true
But it sounds nice, so that’s something.
Filed under Poems
My bones ache,
My pores burn,
My very innards
Are a’ churn.
Exhaustion sets
My hair ablaze.
I do approach
The end of days.
I’m dehydrated
As I ask you
Why wouldn’t I
Stay up ’til 2:00?
Filed under Poems
Never be nervous to be who you are.
Don’t be afraid to be you.
Don’t feel scared to ask “whyever so?”
When the other owls only ask “who?”
Filed under Poems
Goats don’t make good rolling pins:
That’s how this recipe begins.
They kick and spit and stomp and bray
But my cookies taste fine anyway.
Filed under Poems
The sound of screaming guitars
And the smell of burning tires
A flash of purple lightning
And your flavor on my lips,
A lightness in my beating heart
Merges with everburning fires
As my vision fades to black
And I see my life is a commercial for chips.
You may be a man of means
Who’s healthy, wealthy, and wise. You
Sure may be a man of means
And if so I must despise you
For if you are a man of means
Your good luck clouds your head
For who would be a man of means
And not a man of nices instead?
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 