You’ve heard of the musical “Hamilton”
But have you heard the talk
Of my upcoming X-rated sequel
All about John Handcock?
Tag Archives: Postaday
For Jimi And Prince: May They Forever Rock (And Roll Over In Their Graves)
Purple rain
Is such a pain.
Purple haze
Will not amaze.
For purple weather
That’s really neat
You need to try out
Purple sleet!
Like solid water
Or saggy snow
Purple Sleet’s
The way to go.
You doubt me? Ask
A friendly pilot:
There’s no sleet like
Sleet that is violet.
When hail’s too hard
And rain’s too gray
Don’t bid the clouds
To go away.
Instead you’ll wish
(Unless you’re dumb)
For slush to fall
That’s colored plum.
Purple Sleet
Will enlarge your meat.
It’s organic and part
Of a breakfast complete.
So when you’re blue
And just can’t cope
And some red to your slush:
Your sleet’s heliotrope!
Filed under Poems
Back To The Future XVII
Today is my birthday.
I’m seven days old.
From now on when they tell me
“Park the DeLorean”
I’ll do what I’m told.
Filed under Poems
Honestly This Is The Best Joke I Can Come Up With Tonight… So In That Sense The Poem Is Honest
I lied to you this evening
When I said that I was fine.
Truth is I feel rusty
Like I used WD-39.
Filed under Poems
The Sexiest Acronym
There’s this fellow they call Y.I.
Everyone wants to F him, but why?
Filed under Poems
Pilots vs. Hairdressers
Air show! Air show!
Lots of planes,
Tons of balls,
Questionable brains.
Hair show! Hair show!
Fewer planes,
Fewer balls,
The brain thing’s the same.
Filed under Poems
The Pane Of Homophones
Sum folks dont knead it.
Other folks dew.
Eye’m speaking of coarse
Of voice two text apps. Dew ewe?
Filed under Poems
99% Complete
70,020 updates
In a minute all are done,
So why’s it take an hour
For number 70,021?
The End Of A Cycle
The cycle goes around itself,
A blinding dash of red.
The cycle collapses on itself.
Is its rider dead?
The cycle’s wheels roll away
Down the cliff, a stony slide.
The cyclist stands, his bike in shreds…
Last time he’ll text and ride.
Meanwhile the cycle rolls away
To who knows where and when
Until, reborn, the scattered scraps
Begin the cycle again.
Filed under Poems
