You haven’t bought an ostrich
For several months at least,
Nor have you cooked a lemon
In chestnuts, corks, or yeast.
You’ve never thrown a hand grenade
At some Windex in L.A.
So quit telling me you’re bored
And please just go away.
Tag Archives: Postaday
Just Wait ‘Til The Angels Give Me A Harp
I sang a song of love and peace
So thankful for the fallen.
I knew that those beyond the grave
Could surely hear my callin’.
And thus the unknown soldier
And the deceased cream of the crop
Made humankind better once more
By asking me to stop.
Filed under Poems
That Got Morbid Fast…
If freedom were free
That would be fine with me,
But then who’d pay for weapons
To blow up the foreigners?
So thank guys in cammo
And the makers of ammo
For giving us freedom.
Yours truly, the coroners.
Big Things And Small
I gazed upon a whale
With a look of utter awe.
I was entranced by her tail
And enraptured by her maw.
I showed appreciation
By the way I eyed her,
And I told her I was grateful
That she was not a spider.
Filed under Poems
One Quiet Night
Some days you don’t have the blues.
Some days you don’t watch the news.
On days like these, at least for me,
It’s tough to write a travesty.
Filed under Poems
Fantasy Earth
Sometimes I wonder if the gods
Are playing “Fantasy Earth,”
Which is just like fantasy football
But for those of divine birth.
I like to think that up above
Something that’s divine
Is checking out my karma stat
And knowing that I’m fine.
Divine intervention
Might influence your fate,
But it’s just a way to win the league
For a thunder god named Nate.
So here’s to being MVP
If things don’t go amiss.
I really hope I don’t get benched
For having written this.
Filed under Poems
Why Is The Seat Still Damp?
Have you heard of zen archery,
Where you shoot straight and narrow
By using all your strength of will
Until you become the arrow?
I used that logic on my roommate
And got him really pissed.
Alas, he’s no zen archer
‘Cause somehow he still missed.
Filed under Poems
Facial Piercings- An Opinion Poem
If you’re a pretty single woman
But don’t have time to flirt,
Try sticking metal in your face.
Some shrapnel wouldn’t hurt.
And if by chance you’re male
And want metal in your head,
Save yourself some money
And use a shotgun instead.
Filed under Poems
Less Popular Prophets
I met some illiterate mutes
Who knew how the universe works,
But they wouldn’t tell me or write it down.
What a bunch of jerks!
Filed under Poems
If I Had A Lot Of Money
If I had a lot of money
I would make the world a little more funny.
If I had a lot of money
I would create scholarships
For “liberal studies” majors,
Because the world needs more jokes.
If I had a lot of money
I would buy a TV station
And have it play “Groundhog Day”
On repeat forever, because irony.
If I had a lot of money
I would buy all the yachts
And rename them after penis puns
Then sell them back to their original owners,
But only the ones who didn’t laugh
Because rich people who don’t laugh at penis puns
Are the reasons I write poems like this in the first place.
If I had a lot of money
I would apologize to the liberal studies majors
But only because I prefer a leafless pool.
If I had a lot of money
I would eat really well,
But never what was on the menu
And always something with lots of cinnamon
Because cinnamon farming is hard work
And those guys deserve support,
But also because I really like cinnamon.
If I had a lot of money
I would defund the space program
And put that money into teleportation research
Because seriously people, priorities!
If I had a lot of money
I would roll in my money,
But only the paper bills
And only once,
And whenever I paid people with that money
I would look sheepish
Because my paper money was all wrinkled
And because I’m a nice guy
Despite having a lot of money
And because I kind of look like a sheep.
If I had a lot of money
It would be because people bought my books.
Just sayin’.
If I had a lot of money
I wouldn’t have a fancy car
Because women already like me plenty
And to show my support for teleportation research.
If I had a lot of money
I would have a dog named cinnamon
And a yacht named “Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the D.”
If I had a lot of money
I would have so much money
That money could buy me love.
I’d buy love for all the people I’ve hurt
With my poetry these last few years
And for the liberal studies majors
Who aren’t going to find it any other way.
If I had a lot of money
I would be very rich.
Until then, I’m voting Bernie Sanders.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 